Where from, the Warlock?
by Makuhari-Fan01
Summary: Where exactly did that Neuroi crystal the enemies of 501st Strikes Witches had come from? Set during the 'Battle of Britannia' in the summer and fall of 1940. Rating is T. Some drinking and smoking involving only non-witch characters.
1. Chapter 1

I decided to take a break from Ala Alba, so here is my first story from a new series I've been watching; 'Strike Witches.'

Strike Witches exists as Light Novels, manga, anime, and as several non-adult, semi-official doujinshi in Japan. It is owned by Kadokawa Shoten, Gonzo, other entities and its various creators in Japan, and by Funimation (as an anime only,) in the United States, NOT by me.

Forward paraphrased from the short-story 'Der Stern von Africa,' presented in the C74 doujinshi 'Witch in Africa,' as translated and posted on the 'Baka Tsuki' TLWiki visual novel translation wiki. 'Witch in Africa,' and all its contents are owned by Shimada Humikane, Suzuki Taakaki, and Nogamai Takeshi, NOT me.

Beyond how I establish the origins of several characters and a slight name-change, this story is not meant to be an AU.

As it relates to everything else, "Woher, die Zauberer?" takes place during 'The Battle of Britannia' in 1940, concurrent with the 'Suomus Misfits Squadron' series of Light-Novels, and three to four years before the time of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing.

As appropriate, translations of Karlsländ and Gallian speech are given immediately afterwards in (parentheses.)

(-)

"Woher, die Zauberer?" ("Where from, the Warlock?")

Chapter One.

(-)

Though their first appearance was near the end of the second decade of the twentieth-Century, the mysterious Neuroi did not begin their war against Humanity in earnest until September 1st, 1939.

At that time, from hives hovering in the air near the Black Sea, an unstoppable, poisonous miasma and uncountable Neuroi troops poured forth.

Ostmark, directly in the line with the initial wave of the invasion, was the first European Nation to fall. In winter of the same year, the Neuroi attack against Orussia in the East, and Suomus in Northern Europe began. Shortly thereafter Karlsländ came under attack, and by the start of 1940, its entire army was fighting grueling defensive battles all along their southern and eastern borders.

Against the overwhelming power of the Neuroi invasion, the Karlsländer forces faced defeat after defeat, and in June, Berlin fell. Thanks though to the dogged determination to hold back the Neuroi displayed by their own witches, as well as many from Liberion, Fuso, and Britannia, most of Karlsländ's population was evacuated, with the Imperial Family itself departing on the last ship out of Wilhelmshaven. Final defeat in Karlsländ, despite the great efforts to stave it off, came as a severe blow to the morale of many throughout the rest of the world.

Having finally eliminated what had once been the strongest military force in Europe, the Neuroi turned their attentions to the neighboring country of Gallia, which would fall to them like a candle before the wind...

-From 'Der Stern von Africa,' a short-story published with the 'Witch in Africa' visual novel series detailing the Neuroi War in North Africa.

(-)

(Late June, 1940. Operational Training Unit 56. RAF Sutton Bridge. Lincolnshire County, Britannia.)

To those who knew her, Captain Donna Bader was a veteran Witch, the calm, collected Squadron Leader of OTU 56 in the Britannian Royal Air Force.

Now though, locked within a nightmare brought on by an old memory, she thrashed and moaned beneath the confines of her tangled bedclothes...

_"Donna! More speed!"_

_Already sweating over the amount of magical energy being expended to propel her Hawks Hurricane Mk Ib Striker, Leftenant Donna Bader risked a quick glance back at the enemy, then nodded in response to the shouted words of her companion._

_Following in pursuit was a gaggle of flying Neuroi so numerous that not even a pair of Striker-equipped witches could hope to stand against them and win._

_Along with the other RAF witch, a Pilot Officer named Elizabeth Beurling, Donna had been sent to the Britannian Embassy in Ostmark as a part of a military mission tasked with observing incursions into that country by the mysterious creatures called the Neuroi. Everything had proceeded uneventfully, with minor incidents occurring once a week, until like some horde of old emerging out of the steppes of Asia, the Neuroi exploded out of the regions they'd occupied around the Black Sea and began swarming across Ostmark._

_While nothing seemed able to stand against the Neuroi as they advanced, most disturbing of all was that from any land they had taken, nothing further was heard..._

_With Vienna, capital of Ostmark, expected to fall quickly, word came from Britannia that intelligence from behind the Neuroi lines MUST be obtained. As the Britannian Embassy prepared to evacuate, the military mission's commander ordered Donna and Elizabeth to conduct a quick reconnaissance over Neuroi territory using their Hurricane Strikers, then to escape north and over the border and into the neighboring country of Karlsländ._

_What they saw defied description. Everything behind the Neuroi lines was a wasteland. Nothing living could be seen. Plant-life had all withered, and on farms and in the towns and cities occupied by the Neuroi, nothing lived. Animals, the young, the old, everyone and everything was dead._

_Concentrating on her flying magic, Donna managed to increase her speed by sacrificing energy she'd been using for defense._

_As if knowing what had been done, the pursuing Neuroi began to fire with increasing intensity. Red beams flashed through the sky, criss-crossing all around their targets, which frustratingly refused to cooperate and be hit._

_Pushing her Striker to its limits, Donna dodged around the red colored energy filling the sky until she realized she was about to collide with Elizabeth. Snap-rolling away from the near impact, she flew right into a Neuroi beam. Unable to believe what had happened, paralyzed by the shock of being hit, she immediately began spiraling out of the sky. Trailing parts from the severed fuselage of her disintegrating striker, the last thing she remembered seeing was Elizabeth Beurling, her spirit familiar's dachshund ears erect in surprise, watching her fall..._

(-)

Fully awake as soon as her eyes opened, Donna Bader lay still for a moment, then struggled out of the tangled bedclothes and sat up. Panting heavily, short red hair matted with sweat, she put hand to forehead and remained in that position until her breathing finally slowed.

Beurling had managed to save her, but the inhumanity of the Neuroi the two of them witnessed had done something... The silver-haired witch had become withdrawn, insubordinate, and borderline suicidal. After many run-ins with various commanders of RAF bases, she had accepted a transfer, and was now a part of the Suomus Independent Volunteer Aerial Squadron. Despite being called the 'Suomus Misfits' by some, the unit was doing reasonably well against the Neuroi. Elizabeth's few letters seemed to indicate a Fuso Witch named Tomoko Anabuki was responsible for helping her get over the apparent depression she'd been suffering from since the fall of Ostmark.

Reaching down, Donna began to rub the stump of her left leg. Off above the knee thanks to the Neuroi, it was the source of occasional phantom-pain and a constant reminder of events now nearly a year past. Its companion was off below the knee. Taken together, the severed legs had nearly prevented her from remaining an RAF witch. Thanks to tremendous efforts at rehabilitation and retraining, she had managed to remain in the service. Unfortunately, persons higher up than Air Officer Commanding Keith Park, her ultimate superior in 11 Fighter Group, had blocked the petition she'd made to remain in a front-line unit.

After explaining how he'd gone to the mat for her, Park had shaken his head in sorrow, then presented an offer of the only active-duty assignment his superiors would agree to; a posting to 20 Group and Training Command. "I'm sorry, Captain Bader. They can't get beyond seeing you as anything more than a wounded-witch, so the only thing left for me to say if you want to stay in the service is; 'Give it a stiff, Britannian upper lip, and accept the role you've been given.' There's a good-girl..."

Shifting her hand and trying to scratch away the phantom-pain in her right stump, Donna sighed when the effort began to have a relieving effect. Finally looking up, she glanced at her calendar and wall clock. Today was the day a group of Gallian witch-candidates was supposed to arrive at Sutton Bridge for training in the use of Air Strikers.

While Liberion's 'Arsenal of Freedom' was gearing up for the fight against the Neuroi, it and several other countries ringing the Atlantic Oceans had offered their territory and assistance in training the only forces which had proven truly effective against the Neuroi.

Having extremely limited resources, the government in exile of Gallia, along with that of Karlsländ, both desperate to rebuild their nearly destroyed military forces, eagerly accepted the offer.

Witch candidates more suitable for the newly developed Ground Strikers, as well as those who were extremely young, or who's potential would take longer to develop were sent away to train in safety. Those slightly older or with potential for faster development in the use of Air Strikers were sent to Britannia to train. With much of its military committed to the joint Britannia, Karlsländ, Romagna and Liberion Africa Corps and its job of resisting the Neuroi advance across North Africa, the level of military forces stationed in Britannia itself was barely above what was considered the minimum required for its defense. By training near the front-line, non-Britannian witch candidates could gain experience faster, and would be available as potential reinforcements should the Neuroi challenge Britannia in its weakened state.

With a grunt, Donna swung her truncated legs around. After resting on the edge of the bed for a moment, she reached for her magic-powered prosthetics. Unnaturally thin-looking and stiff, the false legs were her only means of getting around when she wasn't wearing her new, specially modified Hawks Hurricane Mk IIC Striker. Moving to stand before a mirror, clad only in a pair of pilot's shorts and a thin tee-shirt, she did some quick personal grooming, then donned a uniform blouse and cap. Stepping outside her billet, she looked up at the clear, beautiful blue sky for a moment, took a deep breath of the clean, clear air, then stepped off towards where a group of fresh-faced Gallian witch-candidates stood waiting with their kit-bags in front of a nearby barracks.

(-)

Nervous, anxious and irritable, Perrine Clostermann wanted to somehow leave at that instant to go and free her homeland from occupation by the alien Neuroi. Instead, she remained in line with seven other young girls outside the empty barracks all of them had been assigned to live in at RAF Sutton Bridge.

Originally part of a group of refugees evacuated from the port of Dunkirk during Britannia's Operation Dynamo, she and many others back in Britannia had been recognized as Gallian witch-candidates by a Fuso Navy Lieutenant named Mio Sakamoto. Thoughts about the dark-haired Fuso witch made her extremely flustered for some reason, prompting emotions which were quite difficult to understand. Only by turning and concentrating on the other girls wearing the dark-blue uniforms of the Free Gallian Air Force could she push such confusing thoughts aside.

On her right was a tall, thin, auburn-haired girl named Antoinette de Saint-Exupéry. Born to a rich family much like her own, she knew the girl was also an author, but not much else. On her left was a timid farm-girl, a blonde much like herself. Long separated from home and family, Amelie Planchard had been latched onto her since Dunkirk. Despite the young girl's humble beginnings, the two of them had grown to be close friends in the short time they'd been together. Further along were five more Gallian girls, but the only one who's name she knew was François de Labouchère, a twelve-year-old brunette down at the far end of the line.

Prompted by a sudden intake of breath from Amelie, Perrine looked up to see a Britannian witch slowly making her way towards their little group. The girl's gait seemed a slightly odd, and after coming closer, a pair of obviously artificial legs made it plain she had been wounded at some point in the past. ("Her... her legs are gone!") Seemingly hearing the thought, the Britannian fixed Perrine in a cold gaze that said thinking the wounds made her any less of a person would be one of the biggest mistake she could ever make. Seeing acknowledgement of the threat in a brief nod, the girl continued to approach until she stood front and center before the little group of Gallian witch-candidates.

"My name is Captain Donna Bader, and I am the officer in charge of the training squadron you girls have been assigned to."

Since everyone else appeared confused by Captain Bader's words, Perrine quickly realized she seemed to be the only one none who understood Britannian.

_"Font tout de vous s'entretenir Britannian?"_

Though Bader's atrocious accent made her hair stand on end, Perrine raised a hand and took a half-step forward. "Yes Ma'am. I understand Britannian."

Looking over the twelve, thirteen and fourteen-year-old witch-candidates standing before her, Donna nodded in thanks while still cringing inside. _("I wonder how many of these 'virgin-witches' will even be alive in a few months, much less a year from now...")_ Turning stiffly on her artificial heel and without looking back, she began walking slowly towards the hangars housing RAF Sutton Bridge's training strikers. "All of you come with me. Before we do anything else, I want see for myself how compatible with Air Striker units all of you actually are."

_"Tout de vous venez à myself. Précédemment nous faisons n'importe quoi autrement, Je veux voyons pour moi-même que compatible à Aérer Gréviste unité tout de vous réellement êtes."_

Responding to her translated instructions, the rest of the girls followed in Perrine's wake as she stepped off after Captain Bader. Believing in what Lieutenant Sakamoto had said about her abilities, filled with a passionate desire to free Gallia from the Neuroi, thoughts of 'being incompatible' with an Air Striker never even crossed her mind.

(-)

(Early July, 1940. Ditchley House, Oxfordshire. North of London.)

After one last handshake, Winston Churchill saw his guest off, then turned back into his temporary weekend home away from the Prime Minister of Britannia's usual residence at 10 Downing Street.

Returning to his office, he went to the humidor and took out a fresh Havana cigar, clipped off the end and lit it, then moved on to the desk centered to one side of the room. _("What a bothersome individual. It's too bad Premier Reynaud was lost when Paris fell. At least he was easier to get along with...")_

Preceded by a soft knock on the door, Churchill's secretary for the current trip came into the room. "Mister Prime Minister. Mister Thompson says Air Chief Marshal Dowding's car has arrived."

Nodding, Churchill flicked the ash from his cigar into an ashtray before moving to stand near the room's fireplace. "Thank you, Miss Shearburn. Show him in at once."

Moments later, the mildly dour Scotsman Hugh Dowding entered the room. Walking over, he stopped on the far side of the fireplace from Churchill before giving a slight bow in salute. "Mister Prime Minister."

"Dowding." Churchill knew he and the Chief of Britannia's Fighter Command had clashed over the use of the RAF during the Battle of Gallia, but the man's organizational abilities, as well as his handling of the battles over the evacuation ports displayed a competence that was hard to deny. "General de Gaulle is making noise again about the Gallian witch-candidates. He claims we plan to use them as shock-troops so we can preserve our own witches for some vague, future scheme involving the Karlsländers." Pausing to inhale a bit of cigar smoke, he turned to face the glowing coals in the fireplace. "As if we would so casually waste any of the precious ladies who are in all likelihood our only hope against these nefarious Neuroi."

First allowing himself just the slightest sigh of exasperation, Dowding drew himself up. "I believe the General himself once said he would not be Gallian if he did not act as he does." Seeing a wry smile cross the Prime-Minister's face, Dowding shifted into a parade-rest posture. "In any case; I can assure you, Mister Prime Minister, Fighter Command has no intention what-so-ever of needlessly risking even a single witch."

Catching Dowding's eye, Churchill held it for a moment, then nodded in satisfaction. "Good." Moving back slightly, he indicated for the Air Chief Marshal to sit in one of the two leather chairs placed before the fire. "I've read your reports, but I'd also like to hear your direct opinion. When will the Gallian and Karlsländ witches we're helping to train be ready to fight?"

Setting his cap on a side table, Dowding sat, but showed no other sign of relaxing beyond the interlacing of his fingers. "Mister Prime Minister. Many of the Karlsländ witches are ready. The Gallian witches somewhat less so. I believe it has more to do with their national character than anything else though, so that is not unexpected. Progress over-all is quite acceptable, however..."

Sensing Dowding's mild distress, Churchill leaned forward. "What is it?"

Deciding to be blunt, Dowding matched Churchill's posture. "Even though they've been stationed at separate airfields for training, there has still been trouble between the Gallian and Karlsländ witches."

Growling, Churchill sat back in his seat once more. "Dratted Alsace-Lorraine. We may be facing the rout of civilization, perhaps even the massacre of mankind itself, and like two unruly children over a schoolyard scuffle, Karlsländ and Gallia can't get over a silly little war they fought way back in 1870!"

Reaching into a pocket on his uniform blouse, Dowding took out a folded piece of paper. "Mister Prime Minister. Brigadier Doolittle, Liberion's witch training liaison, presented to me a possible solution to the problem during his recent visit. I have unofficially discussed it with Generalleutnant Wolfram von Richthofen, the Luftstreitkräfte liaison in London, and he is of the opinion that the idea has merit. If you agree, I will initiate official discussions with them, as well as with all others with the potential to be involved."

After tapping off the ash of his cigar again, Churchill reached over to take the single page from Dowding. After an extended period of silence spent examining the very precisely taken notes, he turned to face the Air Chief Marshal again. "A Joint Fighter Wing of witches? Isn't there one in Suomus? And what about the Battles of Karlsländ and Gallia?"

His expression somewhat sad, Dowding shook his head. "Mister Prime Minister, for all that they have accomplished, the 'Suomus Misfits' are not exactly the most... 'tactful,' example of an integrated witch squadron to put forth. As far as those other examples go; witches from different countries may have participated together, but it was always as a part of completely segregated units. Should the integrated Joint Fighter Wing in Doolittle's proposal actually be formed, he hopes their example will put an end to any unnecessary internecine squabbling before its harmful effects can threaten mankind's very survival."

Nodding, Churchill handed the paper back to Dowding, then stood. "I intend to give an important speech before Parliament by week's end. Would it help if I announced such an initiative? Or would you prefer that I wait?"

Standing as well, Dowding folded and returned the paper to its pocket, then retrieved his hat before proceeding Churchill towards the door. "Perhaps it would be best, Mister Prime Minister, to wait for now. Let me begin the discussions first. That way I can let you know when things are certain, or if they will get that way with just a little push."

Already distracted by his own thoughts, Churchill nodded woodenly in agreement as Dowding first gave him a knowing, worried look, then saluted and departed. Turning back into his office, he took another pull on the shrinking cigar before silently moving to stand once more before the fire... _("Joint Fighter Wing... a bit cumbersome that... What's really needed is a name that's shorter, flashier...") _Turning, a slight tap along the edge of the side-table's ashtray shortened the cigar once again. _("What was it that odd Fuso scientist Ichiro Miyafuji called his inventions again? Strikers. That's it.") Another breath, and the cloud of cigar smoke in the room grew. ("Strike Witches. That's what I'll call them.")_

Immensely satisfied with himself, Churchill turned to ring the bell which would summon his secretary.

Responding quickly, May Shearburn silently entered the room and took her place at a stenographer's desk set to one side of the fireplace.

As his secretary finished setting up, Churchill contemplated the half-finished cigar for a moment, then ground it out in the side-table ashtray before beginning to pace. "Miss Shearburn. We'll start from where we left off."

Holding her pen at the ready, May Shearburn didn't even look up at her boss. "Very well, Mister Prime Minister."

_"I have, myself, full confidence that if all do their duty, if nothing is neglected, and if the best arrangements are made, as they are being made, we shall prove ourselves once again able to defend our Island home, to ride out the storm of war, and to outlive the menace of other-worldly tyranny, if necessary for years, if necessary alone. At any rate, that is what we are going to try to do. That is the resolve of His Majesty's Government-every man of them. That is the will of Parliament and the nation. The Britannian Empire and the other Nations of the world, linked together in their cause and in their need, will defend to the death their native soil, aiding each other like good comrades to the utmost of their strength. Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Neuroi, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in Europe, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the Britannian Fleet and the new units of Strike Witches, would carry on the struggle, until, in God's good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old."_

Going over to the room's bar as his secretary finished up, Churchill made himself a long pour of Johnny Walker Scotch, then resumed pacing. "Alright then. I'm going to announce the formation of the joint units proposed by the Liberion Doolittle, so we'll need to go back to the beginning and make the following changes..."

tsuzuku.

**Author's Notes:**

**Operational Training Unit 56: An actual RAF training unit, based at the airfield and town named Sutton Bridge, near Britannia's (England's)East coast.**

**Donna Bader: (Douglas Bader.) Douglas Bader was an RAF fighter pilot during our World War II. He actually lost his legs in a flying accident during the 1930's, and after rehabilitation, received permission to remain in the RAF.**

**The English Strike Witches Wiki lists Douglas Bader, (Character entry #67,) as 'Dolores Bader.' I have found no information backing that choice up beyond an extremely brief entry on the Japanese Strike Witches Wiki. Only recently was any additional information added to the English Wiki, and that was immediately marked as 'fan-made only.' Since I choose 'Donna Bader' before I even knew of the existence of the SW Wiki, and also because I like it more, I intend to stay with 'Donna.'**

**The Port of Dunkirk, Operation Dynamo: Name of the operation in which what was left of the Britannian and Gallian armies in Gallia, along with uncounted numbers of Gallian civilians, evacuated Gallia in the face of the Neuroi onslaught. In normal history; after being out-fought in Belgium and France by the advancing German armies, 338,226 British and French soldiers were evacuated, saving them from being forced to surrender.**

**Perrine H. Clostermann: Based on a Free French fighter pilot from World War II. (Pierre Clostermann.)**

**Amelie Planchard: Perrine's friend. Based on World War II French pilot Henri Planchard.**

**Antoinette de Saint-Exupéry: Based on World War II French pilot and author Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.**

**François de Labouchère. Based on a World War II French pilot of the same name.**

**Paul Reynaud, Gallian (French) Premiere: Called Winston Churchill and uttered the famous line; "We are beaten," when the Neuroi smashed the Gallian armies defending the border with Karlsländ. Stayed in Paris overseeing the evacuation of civilians, then died when the city was finally overrun. In normal history, he was arrested after France surrendered to Germany, but survived the war and eventually returned to French politics.**

**Brigadier General Charles de Gaulle: At the head of Gallia's only still-intact armored division and its few remaining organized units of Striker-using witches, he lead the temporarily successful counter-attack against the Neuroi which allowed the inhabitants of Northern Gallia to evacuate towards the Britannian Channel ports. After Dunkirk, he became the head of the Gallian Government in Exile. In normal history, de Gaulle did lead a temporarily successful counter-attack against the Germans. He later became, by the sheer force of his will, the leader of most of the Free French military forces fighting against the Germans.**

**Luftstreitkräfte: German Army Air Service. With no collapse of the Karlsländ(German) Monarchy, it is unlikely the name of the Karlsländ Army Air Service would have been changed to the 'Luftwaffe,' which was essentially a creation of Hermann Göring, at the behest of Nazi Party leader Adolf Hitler. As a side note: The name is still used today by the Austrian Air Force, which is called the 'Österreichische Luftstreitkräfte.'**

**Alsace-Lorraine: A province on the border between the Republic of Gallia and Karlsländ (France and Germany/Prussia) which was lost to Gallia during the Gallia-Karlsländ War of 1870. (The 1870 Franco-Prussian war from real-world history.)**

**Generalleutnant Wolfram von Richthofen: Cousin of the more famous Manfred von Richthofen, who was known in World War I as 'The Red Baron.'**

**Though it occurs in late June in this Strike Witches timeline, Winston Churchill originally gave his 'we shall fight on the beaches' speech on June 04, 1940.**


	2. Chapter 2

Strike Witches exists as Light Novels, Manga, anime and as several non-adult, semi-official doujinshi in Japan. It is owned by Kadokawa Shoten, Gonzo, other entities and its various creators in Japan, and by Funimation (as an anime only,) in the United States, NOT by me.

Beyond how I establish the origins of several characters and a slight name-change, this story is not meant to be an AU.

As it relates to everything else, "Woher, die Zauberer?" takes place during 'The Battle of Britannia' in 1940, concurrent with the 'Suomus Misfits Squadron' series of Light-Novels, and three to four years before the time of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing.

As appropriate, translations of Karlsländ and Gallian speech are given immediately afterwards in (parentheses.)

(-)

"Woher, die Zauberer?" ("Where from, the Warlock?")

Chapter Two.

(-)

(August, 1940. Britannian Midlands.)

Originally setting out on a self-scheduled navigation exercise towards the western coast of Britannia and back, Perrine Clostermann eyed with increasing concern the dark clouds of a gathering thunderstorm as she neared the West Midlands town of Coventry. Finally deciding the extra practice wasn't worth the risk, she turned back towards Sutton Bridge. After a leisurely return trip spent watching the countryside pass by below, she turned north and was about to enter the landing pattern when the roar of racing Striker engines drew her attention back south.

"Abseits! Weinbergschnecke Esser!" _("Out of the way! Snail eater!")_

Despite her attempt to comply with the rudely given order, Perrine was nearly driven into the ground by the effects of prop-wash as a group of mostly dog-eared Karlsländ Witches in Messerscharf-109 Strikers roared past and immediately moved in to land at the airfield. Recovering from the near crash, she watched with barely restrained anger as the witches slowed down and began floating over toward the training Striker hangar. Parked outside was a group of Liberion trucks which had delivered extra Striker docks to the base earlier that morning. She'd wondered what they were for, but hadn't wanted to wait around to find out from Captain Bader. Now she knew. _("'Snail-eater...' Ignorant Karlsländer's... I hate snails... gross, slimy things...")_

Shaking her head, Perrine ignored proper procedure and rushed across the airfield to land near the hangar just as the Karlsländers climbed into a truck and drove off. Despite the complaints of a nearby officer, she floated swiftly inside and over to her Striker's dock instead of waiting to brought in by the ground crew.

Having witnessed what nearly happened to 'HIS' witch while standing outside earlier, Perrine's crew-chief helped her secure the Striker to its dock. As she dismounted, he signaled for her to go, whispering while doing so that he would deal with any complaints from the rapidly approaching officer.

Nodding in thanks, Perrine put on her shoes, then ran out of the hangar. She needed to report what had happened to Captain Bader, but turned away from doing so after seeing the Karlsländer's truck parked outside the Gallian witch's barracks...

(-)

Sighing at the loss of privacy such a change represented, Donna Bader finished moving her bed and other personal items closer to the stove in the squadron officer's billet. When everything was finally positioned to her liking, she turned and started setting up two new beds.

Ever since the Prime Minister's speech proposing the new mixed-nationality units of 'Strike Witches,' speculation had been rife as to when exactly the first would be formed, and what training base would actually host it.

Orders from 20 Group had arrived that morning along with a convoy of Liberion trucks bearing nine empty Striker docks. As a result, the answer to that question was abundantly clear. OTU 56 and RAF Sutton Bridge would be hosting the new 'experimental' unit of witches. As a result, Donna would now be sharing her quarters with the leader of a group of Karlsländ Witches, as well as with a Liberion observer who was scheduled to arrive later.

The roar of magical engines heralded the expected arrival of the Karlsländers, but the sound of someone running towards her billet a short time later was certainly not expected.

Ignoring normal protocol, Amelie Planchard burst through the door of Captain Bader's billet. Panting, she finally noticed the captain's annoyed look and managed to straighten up and salute. "Ca... Capitaine Bader! S'il vous plaît... ah... ple... ples come quikli! Là saucisse-eeting Karlsländers... ils... they jettison nous éteint!"

Not really understanding what Amelie was trying to say in her excitement, but realizing something bad was already happening between the newly arrived Karlsländers and the Gallian Witches, Donna grabbed her duty cap from its hook on the wall and rushed outside. Not far down the street, she could see two segregated groups milling around outside the training witches' barracks. As she continued her approach, several Karlsländer's appeared at the barracks door, tossing armloads of personal items out on the ground as they did so. As much as she might have expected a fight to start because of that, it seemed as if Perrine Clostermann and Antoinette de Saint-Exupéry, despite the obvious rage showing in their trembling forms, were managing to hold everyone else back.

Ignoring the pain doing so caused in the stumps of her legs, Donna increased her pace and came to the barracks just as the next 'load' was brought to the door. "Who's in charge here!"

Thin, somewhat severe-looking, and every bit the stereotypical Karlsländer, a blonde witch with short hair turned to face Donna. "I am. What of it?"

Giving the two witches at the door a withering look, she waited for them to put down the things they held, then turned to face their leader once more. "I am Captain Bader. These quarters are already occupied. What exactly do you think you're doing here?"

Glancing first at Donna, lingering for a moment on her artificial legs before finally looking up, the Karlsländ witch crossed her arms and assumed a posture displaying all the arrogance normally attributed to those from her country. "I am Hauptmann Ernsta Mayer. As for what is going on here; isn't it obvious? The best quarters should belong to the best witches. We are simply removing some annoying vermin before we occupy them."

Holding out and arm, Donna stopped Perrine as the blonde Gallian girl started to step forward. "Best witches you say? What service have you seen then?"

Without even bothering to look at her counterpart, Mayer gave Donna a dismissive sniff. "My second in command, Leutnant Barkhorn, and I have served in JG 52 or JG 3 all the way from Berlin to Wilhelmshaven. All of the trainees with us were IN training even before the so-called 'Battle of Gallia.'"

Raising an eyebrow, Donna glanced over at the long-haired witch named Barkhorn. "I know of you. For all your experience, you've yet to shoot down a Neuroi." Seeing the witch in question clench her fists in rage, she knew she'd struck a nerve. "I also hear Lt. Barkhorn's nick-name is; 'Grünschnabel,' 'The Greenhorn,' because of that."

Once more facing Mayer, Donna gave her own confrontational grin. "That means it's really down to just the two of us. Berlin you say? I was in Vienna."

Surprised by the revelation, Perrine saw a similar reaction on the faces of several Gallian witches, as well as on the face of Leutnant Barkhorn and many of the other Karlsländer's. Of all the missions that had been sent behind Neuroi lines at the beginning of the war, only one was known to have been even partially successful. If Captain Bader had been involved in that... then OTU 56's Squadron Leader had seen some hard action, and it also explained how she'd lost her legs...

Recovering quickly, Mayer pointed at the Gallian's behind Bader. "We were instructed to occupy whatever pilot quarters we saw fit after arriving here at Sutton Bridge. Surely you don't expect us to occupy tents or some such while 'they' live in barracks?"

Beginning to become seriously annoyed by Mayer's unrepentant attitude of superiority, Donna moved up so she could look down at her slightly shorter counterpart. "Surely you don't expect to develop trust and cooperation, which is the reason for your being sent here in the first place, by kicking your new comrades out of their home, do you?"

Seething, Mayer seemed to be searching for a comeback when an RAF staff-car and a Liberion truck carrying a tarp-covered Striker dock turned onto the barracks street.

Noticing the vehicle's markings as it drove up and came to a stop, Perrine snapped to attention. "12 Group Air Officer Commanding! Witches salute!"

Followed by a buxom, strawberry-blonde Liberion witch, 12 Group's Air Officer Commanding, Trafford Leigh-Mallory, stepped out of the staff car. Though not normally above Donna in 20 Group's chain of command, as Air Defense Commander of Britannia's Midlands, she knew he had de-facto authority over anything happening within his area of responsibility.

Acknowledging the salutes, Leigh-Mallory looked over the mess on the ground before turning to face Donna. "What exactly is going on here Captain? No trouble, I hope?"

Dropping her salute, Donna remained in a posture of attention. "Just a slight disagreement over quarters, Sir, nothing you need be concerned about."

With his expression showing he felt it might be otherwise, Leigh-Mallory looked around at all the witches standing at attention. "Indeed." Unable to make anything further out of the incident, he turned to indicate the Liberion witch standing beside him. "This is Leftenant Roberta Johnson of the Liberion Army Air Corps, assigned through Brigadier General Doolittle to observe this, 'experimental' integrated unit. I presume you have a billet for her, or is that also an 'issue I don't need to worry about?'"

Recalling the rumors she's heard of Leigh-Mallory's opposition to any kind of integrated units, not to mention any use of witches in the first place, Donna snapped to attention, hoping to give him no further excuse to remain through her perfect salute. "No issue what-so-ever, Sir!"

Showing a barely concealed look of disgust, Leigh-Mallory glanced at the gathered witches once more, then saluted and returned to his car.

As the commander of 12 Group departed, Roberta Johnson indicated the scattered personal belonging with an extended hand as she turned to Donna. "Is this really a problem over quarters?"

Glaring at Mayer, Donna shook her head. "My girls were here first. The Barracks is theirs."

Pointing at Perrine as an example, Mayer faced Roberta with an equally determined look. "Compared to these 'Couldn't win a fight unless they were being lead by a Neapolitan' Gallians, my girls are obviously the better witches! We don't deserve to be quartered in anything except a barracks building!"

Seeing the amount of self-control Perrine and the other Gallians were displaying by not to reacting to Mayer's repeated insults, Roberta gave a knowing smile. Making a big show of doing so, she first counted Donna and her Gallian witches, then Mayer and her Karlsländers. "There are nine each of you. Why don't we settle this with a little friendly wager and a practice battle? I'll referee, Mayer, you and Donna won't count, since I know we'll be quartered separately, and the first eight witches who get 'shot down,' Gallian OR Karlsländer, get to sleep in tents or whatever."

Confident both in herself and her Gallian witches, Donna held out a hand to Mayer. "Sounds fair to me. Agreed?"

Ignoring Donna's hand, Mayer sniffed derisively and turned away. "Sure. Why not? I know what will happen, you Limey half-witch."

As the Liberion Roberta began to rub at her temples, Perrine felt a sudden chill come from Donna and had to take a step back. "Ca... Captain Bader?"

Reaching down, Donna began to rub at her left leg where it joined the prosthetic. "Flight Sergeant Clostermann. Do you remember what I did to you the second week you were here?"

Still feeling a bit of shame over the mistake she'd made, Perrine colored slightly. "Yes Ma'am."

Straightening back up, Donna turned to face Perrine directly. "I want you and Planchard to stay loose and try not to get too involved in the fight. Be ready to take advantage of that same thing. Do you understand?"

Looking over Bader's shoulder towards Mayer as the Karlsländ witch talked with Barkhorn, Perrine instantly understood. "Yes Ma'am!"

(-)

Flying casually across the Britannian countryside, Roberta Johnson watched from her Curts Warhawk Striker as Donna Bader and the Gallian witches took off from RAF Sutton Bridge. Ernsta Mayer and her Karlsländ witches had already taken off, and should have been waiting for the Gallians to climb to altitude before the practice mission began. However, the Britannian witch apparently expected some kind of treachery, because she was leading her girls out towards the Britannian Channel as rapidly as possible. Once there, her squadron would be able to climb without fear of an ambush out of the ground clutter of the Britannian countryside.

A flash of light off a Messerscharf's prop caught Roberta's attention, proving that Donna's caution was justified. Flying mostly below the level of the tops of the trees for cover, a Karlsländ witch was about to close what had to have been a wide, arcing course designed to bring her in behind the Gallians shortly after they took off. _("Here we go then...")_

Muzzle flash from a practice weapon and the activation of a shield meant one of the Gallian witches was now a tent-dweller.

"Gallian Eight down!"

Her flight somewhat erratic, probably from the surprise of being 'shot down,' the Gallian witch broke away and turned back towards Sutton Bridge. The other Gallians continued on their course, and it appeared as if Ernsta Mayer, identified by the markings of her Karlsländ-sheppard spirit-familiar, was about to get another easy kill.

Wondering why the Gallian's lead by Bader weren't initiating some kind of defensive maneuvers, she looked towards the lead witch and realized the spirit familiar of the girl in the first Hurricane Striker was a dark-eared cat. Before she could look elsewhere for the brownish markings of Bader's tailless Corgi spirit familiar, the THIRD Hurricane Striker in the formation suddenly winged up and over in an unbelievably swift barrel-roll.

Mayer was instantly put on the defensive by the maneuver, and if she hadn't broken away immediately, would have been caught in the line of fire reaching out from Bader's practice gun. The rest of the mostly cat-eared Gallians broke up into pairs, while a fox-eared witch named Antoinette de Saint-Exupéry suddenly pulled into a zoom-climb.

Ignoring the climber, Roberta turned her attention to everyone else. Bader and Mayer were locked into a low-level chase which sent several panicked sheep fleeing across a pasture, while the three paired witches had entered into a very wide circle. The appearance of the other eight Karlsländ witches seemed to spell doom for the spread-out Gallians, but the reason for their wide circle, as well as the zoom-climbing Antoinette, suddenly became clear. _("They've formed an extended Luffberry Circle as a trap, and that lone witch in their spotter...")_

All eight remaining Karlsländ witches seemed about ready to swamp one of the 'helpless' Gallian pairs when the dog-eared Barkhorn and three other witches unexpectedly broke off their approach. Apparently not realizing what they were flying into, the other four continued on and were suddenly out-numbered when the other two Gallian pairs snap-turned into their attack. Hoping to disrupt the trap their comrades had fallen into, the four Karlsländ witches who had broken away turned back and opened fire at long range. Concentrating on a single target, their combined efforts actually downed one of the Gallians. The other five continued on without stopping and swept through the Karlsländ formation, preceded by the concentrated fire of their five practice weapons.

"Gallian Four down! Karlsländ Five, Six, and Eight down!"

Using the momentum they'd built up by accelerating into the attack, four of the Gallian witches began climbing, while the fifth dove and moved to escape at low-level. Electing to remain engaged with the larger group, Barkhorn and the other surviving Karlsländers turned after the climbing Gallians. With their Messerscharf Strikers having the higher acceleration ability, they quickly began to close the distance.

Striking out of the darkening sky to the west, Antoinette de Saint-Exupéry dove down at the Karlsländ witches. Opening fire, she caught two of them in the process of turning to meet her attack. Unfortunately, before she could zoom-climb away to safety once more, Barkhorn hit her with a high-angle deflection shot, and she was out.

"Karlsländ Two and Seven, Gallian Seven down!"

With the odds now in the Gallian's favor, Roberta expected them to regroup and attack the remaining Karlsländers. Instead, two broke away, followed by Barkhorn, while the other pair went into a defensive weave. The last two Karlsländ witches tried to attack several times, but found it very difficult to do so without exposing themselves to a counter-attack. Turning away from the stalemate, Roberta began trying to locate the witches who were still fighting.

(-)

With everything having already gone to pieces, Gertrude Barkhorn ignored Oswalda Boelcke's Dicta that witches should fight in groups and accelerated after the two Gallian witches who were most likely moving to reinforce their leader. Even considering Mayer's earlier, off-color remarks to the Britannian Captain Bader, she still had no intention of allowing the two Gallian's she was pursuing to interfere with what was essentially and honor duel between Mayer and Bader.

Personally, she couldn't really remain upset with the Britannian officer calling her 'Grünschnabel,' because there was a strong level of truth behind that nickname. Despite all her efforts during the fall of Karlsländ, it was true that she had never actually destroyed the core of a Neuroi. Even the Neuroi which had hurt her little sister Chris had been destroyed by her home squadron's commander; a Hauptmann named Minna Wilcke...

Looking over her shoulder, Perrine saw the witch named Barkhorn closing in to attack. With Captain Bader having ordered her not to get too deeply involved in the fight, her only option was to try to evade the obviously skilled Karlsländer. Off the South-west, further along now than they'd been before, were the storm clouds which had earlier driven her back from Coventry. Hesitation would only allow Barkhorn to catch up, so she steeled herself with determination and turned to her companion. "Amelie! Into the clouds!"

Still weak on her non-visual flying, but trusting Perrine completely, Amelie nodded. "Yes Ma'am!"

Closing rapidly on the two Gallians, Barkhorn watched as they plunged without hesitation into the dark clouds. Altering her course slightly, she began climbing in response. ("They're good, but still newbies... They'll just stay in for a bit, then come back out at the same level.") Diving into the clouds herself, she held a steady course for a moment, then slowly began easing her way back out until she could see what was going on below. As expected, the Gallian's soon left the cover of the clouds. She waited a few more seconds to let them get far enough away it would be easy to cut-off any attempt to reverse their course, then rolled into a turn and took off in pursuit. In the distance she briefly noted Mayer and Bader dueling, but immediately returned her attention to the two targets which now had no chance for an escape.

Taking aim at the trailing Gallian witch, Barkhorn was about to fire her paired training weapons when the rabbit-eared girl unexpectedly looked back. Instead of panicking and trying to run, the Gallian made a sudden, desperation reversal maneuver. Obviously trying for some kind of sacrifice-play to protect her cat-eared leader, the girl didn't seem to realize doing such had left her almost completely unmoving in Barkhorn's path. "Sie... Sie Blödian! Vorsicht!" _("You... you idiot! Look out!")_

Watching from above, Roberta Johnson winced as the inevitable occurred; Barkhorn tried to maneuver, but momentum carried her forward and she slammed into the Gallian witch. Magic shields protected the two witches from any serious harm, but both were clearly stunned by the unexpected impact. "Mi... Midair collision! Karlsländ One and Gallian Two down!"

Looking over her shoulder as the floating pair receded into the distance, Perrine could see the Karlsländer Barkhorn, hand on Amelie's shoulder, checking to see if the Gallian witch was okay. Even knowing this was a practice mission, her friend had taken a potentially fatal risk, and might need to be disciplined later to make sure she understood that. Captain Bader had repeatedly emphasized the Karlsländer Oswalda Boelcke's Dicta in their training. One of those rules stated that stopping in front of a Neuroi during close-combat was nothing short of suicidal. Looking forward once more, she soon spotted Captain Bader and the Karlsländ witch Mayer. Still swirling round and round in their fight, the two squadron leaders were slowly drifting closer to the gathering storm approaching out of the west.

(-)

Switching her attention back to the dueling leaders, Roberta soon realized that Bader appeared to be taunting Mayer. Though the Karlsländ witch had been in the trailing position for most of the fight, the Britannian had obviously never allowed her to score a hit. To an outside observer, it seemed clear Mayer was growing frustrated. Despite the advantage she seemed to hold, Bader suddenly made a leisurely roll, then went into a level turn. Obviously expecting an easy kill, Mayer followed her into the turn.

As she continued to watch, wondering what Bader's plan was, the Britannian witch slowly began tightening her turn, forcing Mayer to do the same in order to keep her practice weapon pointed in the right direction. Long past the time she would have expected Bader to break off in the opposite direction to relieve the sustained G-forces of the turn, the Britannian continued, and even tightened her turn further.

Unable to keep up, Mayer suddenly wavered, obviously starting to black out. As her turn unconsciously eased and she started to level out, the Gallian witch named Perrine Clostermann dove down from above, peppering the Karlsländ witch with fire from her practice weapon.

"Karlsländ Leader Down!"

Bader and Perrine quickly formed up and turned to go find the remaining five witches. Mayer should have headed back towards Sutton Bridge, but instead began following the two Britannians who had defeated her. Closing in, she pointed the practice weapon at her unsuspecting targets and started using her magic.

Normally the practice weapons were non-lethal, but Roberta knew Mayer to be a user of reinforcement magic. If such magic was applied to the practice rounds, a hit on an unsuspecting target could prove injurious at the very least.

"Rücken-stechend Hund!" _("Back-stabbing dog!")_

About to open her mouth to shout a warning, Roberta was interrupted by the shout and the sudden appearance of Leutnant Barkhorn. Mayer looked up in surprise just before being sent tumbling through the sky by the force of a deliberate mid-air collision. Shaken by the impact, Mayer dropped her practice weapon and began spiraling limply towards the ground until Barkhorn finally dove down to save her. The brunette Karlsländ witch shouted at her leader briefly, then flew off towards Sutton Bridge, dragging the unresisting Mayer along by the collar.

Returning her attention to the others, Roberta saw that Bader and the remaining Gallian's were circling the last two Karlsländ witches at a safe distance. Faced with the loss of their leader, as well as the five to two odds, they signaled their capitulation.

(-)

As the seven witches formed up to fly back towards Sutton Bridge, Roberta eased her Warhawk Striker down from where she'd been watching the fight. Pulling up next to Donna Bader, she examined the heavily reinforced belt the Britannian wore, as well as the wide straps connecting it to her Hurricane Striker. Nodding in approval, she faced forward once more. "Nice little accessory you've got there."

Turning to look at Roberta and not seeing anything disapproving in the Liberion's expression, Donna gave a small nod. "If I still had both my knees, then the Striker's magic would do its job and there wouldn't be any problem. Unfortunately, the unit on my left-leg starts to slip under high G-loads. Keith Park, Air Officer Commanding at 11 Group, put in a request for help, and about a week later a Fuso scientist name Ichiro Miyafuji and a Fuso Navy witch named Mio Sakamoto showed up at my base. After a bit of work, Doctor Miyafuji and Leftenant Sakamoto came up with this belt. It's ugly and cumbersome, but it does what it's supposed to; remind my Striker units to stay in place."

Hearing a bit of bitterness in Donna's words, Roberta flew on in silence for a moment before looking towards the Britannian witch once more. "Well, at least you've been able to turn your injury into an advantage."

Giving a laugh which contained absolutely no mirth, Donna looked over at Roberta. "Yeah! Isn't it great? Being a young girl whose legs are half-off means I don't black out as quickly as others should in high-G maneuvers! Those lousy Neuroi won't know what hit them!"

As Sutton Bridge came into view, Roberta looked away from Donna. Though the Britannian's words were completely serious, it didn't take a mind-reader to understand she wished she didn't actually posses such an 'advantage.'

Taking a deep breath, Donna brought her thoughts back into focus. After looking left and then right at the Karlsländ and Gallian witches flying in formation with her, she gave a hand-signal indicating all of them should go ahead and land, then pulled away and began circling the airfield with Roberta Johnson. When everyone else was down, she and the Liberion witch came in to land, then floated over to the hangar just as a faint rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

Knowing Bader wouldn't be able to escape right away because of the extra steps required to dismount from her Striker, the commander of RAF Sutton Bridge was waiting inside the hangar. As she expected, he gave her an earful about how many calls he'd been receiving from local farmers, complaining to him about 'a bunch of noisy witches flying around scarin' their livestock.'

Finishing with putting on her prosthetics, Donna pulled herself erect, then waited patiently until the base commander ran out of breath. Saluting smartly, she looked him in the eye, apologized, and promised such untoward behavior would never happen again. Apparently expecting more of an argument over what had occurred, the base commander started slightly, returned her salute, then turned and departed.

With nothing else to keep her in the hangar, Donna turned to thank her crew-chief for all the effort he and his men put out on behalf of all the witches at Sutton Bridge. After accepting and returning their salutes, she quickly led Roberta out of the hangar.

Approaching the barracks building with Roberta, Donna began to hear someone shouting in Karlsländer. Quickly realizing it was the voice of a man; she increased her pace and arrived just in time to see a Karlsländ Luftstreitkräfte officer order Mayer into a staff car. Turning as they continued to approach, the officer waited patiently, then bowed deeply when they came to a halt.

"Hauptmann Bader. I have heard of the wholly inappropriate behavior displayed by the Luftstreitkräfte officer assigned to this base, and will take the necessary disciplinary action. Please accept my most humble apologies."

Momentarily confused about what was going on, Donna finally realized by the officer's rank who must be standing before her. "Gen... Generalleutnant von Richthofen! It's a pleasure to meet you Sir!"

Amused by the nearly audible 'snap' as the Britannian witch came to attention, Wolfram von Richthofen straightened up and gave a friendly smile. "Relax Hauptmann! No need to be so formal!" Glancing over at the staff-car, his smile faded slightly before his attention returned to Bader. "Generaloberst Udet and my cousin warned me there might be trouble, so I rushed up from London as quickly as possible to see how things were going for myself. Regretfully, I was unable to arrive in time to prevent what I've heard was a most unseemly scene."

Relaxing slightly, Donna looked around and realized Barkhorn and several of the other Karlsländ witches had looks of shame on their faces. Knowing what she said next might determine the fate of an experimental unit which hadn't even been given a chance to work yet; she took a slow, deep breath to give herself time to think. Finally moving into her 'at-ease' posture, she gave von Richthofen a hopeful smile. "I am sure, Generalleutnant, that this will prove to be one case where a single bad apple hasn't spoiled everything in the barrel."

Looking around at the various Gallian's, seeing many of them nod in support of Bader's words as they were translated by a glasses-wearing witch, von Richthofen couldn't help but return Bader's smile. "That's the attitude we need to make this joint-unit a success!" Turning to look towards the Karlsländ witches, he waved for Gertrude Barkhorn to come forward. "If you don't mind; I've placed Leutnant Barkhorn in charge of the remaining Karlsländ witches here at Sutton Bridge."

Glancing over at Barkhorn, Donna felt her own cheeks color slightly in shame. "If she can forgive me for an insult I directed her way earlier; then I expect we will do quite well together."

A bright flash, followed seconds later by a loud, booming rumble, caused everyone gathered outside the barracks to cringe. Realizing he might be keeping work from being done, von Richthofen moved over towards his staff-car. "I'd best be going then. Leutnant Barkhorn is aware of how and who to contact should there be any further problems."

Bader saluted along with everyone else standing outside the barracks. Elation and relief showed in equal measure amongst everyone present after von Richthofen returned the salute, then entered his staff-car and was gone.

Of course Bader felt some bias towards the Gallians since she'd been working with them, but it heartened her to see the looks on all sixteen of the girl's faces. The Karlsländ witches appeared genuinely contrite and embarrassed over what had just happened, and the Gallian witches seemed disinclined to bear a grudge over the matter. Giving a soft cough, she silenced several whispered conversations and drew everyone's attention her way. "Now that that's been dealt with, we..."

Another flash heralded a loud clap of thunder, but Bader simply waited with typical Britannian aplomb until the sound faded. "...we need to move everyone's things inside the barracks. As I'm sure you can tell, those storm clouds are getting closer, and it simply wouldn't do to have anyone's kit get soaked. I was hoping we could go visit the Quartermaster Sergeant to draw tents and such, but I doubt we're going to have the time to do so. Are there any questions?" Seeing there were none, she turned slightly to indicate Lieutenant Johnson with a raised hand. "After I show our Liberion observer to her billet, we'll be back to help."

While Captain Bader moved to help Leutnant Johnson collect her things, Gertrude Barkhorn moved over to stand beside Perrine Clostermann. When the Gallian noticed her, she held out a hand. "Allow me to apologize as well for things getting off to a bad start. Let's build a strong unit together, show all the doubters that it can be done, then go out and take back our homelands from the Neuroi!"

Barkhorn's sentiments were something Perrine could certainly agree with, so she enthusiastically took the Karlsländer's hand.

Wanting to ask Perrine if she knew anything about Captain Bader's time in Vienna, Barkhorn was about to do so when a fat raindrop hit her in the face. Others began to splat against the barracks and amongst the gathered witches. Turning to her sister Karlsländers, she pointed at the personal items still scattered about on the ground. "Jedermann! Ankommen die Gällian Gör Sachen drinnen! Schnell!" _("Everyone! get the Gällian girl's things inside! Quickly!")_

Seeing a way to promote closeness between the two groups of witches in Barkhorn's shouted instructions, Perrine pointed at a nearby truck containing the Karlsländer's personal belongings. "Vite! Allons-y trouver à eux truc à l'intérieur de précédemment nous toutes trouver trempé!" _("Quick! Let's get their things inside before we all get soaked!")_

Over in her billet, watching the sixteen witches rushing to finish as the rain's intensity grew, Donna smiled, then turned to look at Roberta. "This just might work out after-all."

Nodding, Roberta crossed her arms. "For all our sakes, and the sake of humanity; I hope you're right."

(-)

(RAF Watnall. 12 Group Headquarters. Nottinghamshire County, Britannia.)

Seeing who was waiting for him on his return to RAF Watnall pleased Trafford Leigh-Mallory not in the least. "Air Commodore Malloney."

Standing from the chair where he'd been waiting in Leigh-Mallory's outer office, Malloney saluted. "Sir."

Leigh-Mallory returned the salute given by Malloney and the enlisted rating standing at attention behind the secretarial desk, then proceeded into his office.

Malloney followed, shutting and locking the door as he did so. "I'm afraid I have bad news Sir."

Moving over to the room's desk, Leigh-Mallory placed his cap on a hat stand and then sat, interlacing his fingers and placing them on the desk-blotter. "Not about the special project, I hope."

After just a moment's delay, Malloney moved to sit down across from Leigh-Mallory. "No Sir, though I do have news about that. My bad news is actually about OTU 56 at Sutton Bridge."

Having just come from there, Leigh-Mallory wondered what could have happened in the short time since he'd left. "Well?"

Leaning forward, Malloney placed a message form on Leigh-Mallory's desk. "Hauptmann Ernsta Mayer has been relieved and ordered to return to Neu Karlsländ."

Suddenly angry, Leigh-Mallory quickly read the note, then crumpled it in his hand. "Why was the Neu Karlsländ witch liaison there?"

Not having a definite answer, all Malloney could do was shrug. "Apparently Generalleutnant von Richthofen heard the Karlsländ witches were finally being sent to Sutton Bridge, so he rushed up from London to greet them. I would imagine you just missed him when you left. It seems he became aware of some fault committed by Hauptmann Mayer, and relieved her on the spot. Apparently a Leftenant Gertrude Barkhorn is now in charge of the Karlsländ witches. By rank, and how things were originally set up, that means Captain Donna Bader is now in over-all command of the experimental unit."

Unable to remain seated, Leigh-Mallory slammed his seat back angrily and stood. "Blasted Richthofen! He would have to come up from London before Mayer could do what we hoped she would!"

Seeing nothing would be gained by continuing the current line of conversation, Malloney lowered his voice slightly. "About the special project, Sir."

Hoping for some good news, Leigh-Mallory returned to his desk. "Do you have something new from Doctor Bohr?"

Nodding, Malloney gave a smile which immediately caused Leigh-Mallory to relax. "Yes Sir. Doctor Bohr is confident he's found a means to keep the item in question preserved, provided it can be recovered before complete disintegration. He concedes that acquiring such is a matter of random chance more than anything else, but with the appearance of the source being somewhat predictable, it should only be a matter of time. Even as we speak, he has dispatched recovery teams to several locations where the item is most likely to appear next."

Smiling himself, Leigh-Mallory sat back in his chair. "Good. After we acquire what we need, the special project will be able to proceed. Once it is completed, I'll finally be able to prove to the Prime Minister and those, 'provincials' Dowding and Park the fallacy of depending on any witch; much less those proposed 'Strike Witch' teams, for the defense of Britannia!"

tsuzuku.

(-)

**Author's Notes:**

**For this story and the purpose of their training; unless otherwise stated, all the witches are flying Hawks Hurricane, or Messerscharf-109 Strikers. Witches who have different types listed in various character descriptions, for example; on the Strike Witches Wiki, will receive them in the future.**

**Another change I have made concerning Donna Bader, (Douglas Bader,) is the presumption she was assigned to Air Officer Commanding Keith Park's 11 Group, responsible for the defense of south-east Britannia, (England,) instead of Air-Officer Commanding Trafford Leigh-Mallory's 12 Group, responsible for the defense of the Britannian Midlands. The purpose of which is to present Donna as an ally of Park, and not a supporter of Leigh-Mallory.**

**If you are interested in the Park - Leigh-Mallory controversy from the actual time period of the Battle of Britain, search Wikipedia using 'Big Wing.'**

**Gertrude Barkhorn's namesake, Gerhard Barkhorn, DIDN'T score any kills until later on in the time period covered by this story. From his entry in Wiki: "Gerhard Barkhorn flew his first combat missions in May 1940, during the Battle of France and then the Battle of Britain, without scoring a kill. His first victory came in July 1941." I know it seems as if she shoots a Neuroi down in episode four of season one, but that could easily be attributed to either of the other witches seen flying with her. (Possibly Minna, Hartmann, or Marseille.)**

**Luffberry Circle: A circular defensive formation of aircraft. Normally one used so every aircraft flying in a formation is covered against attack by the aircraft circling behind it. Against superior aircraft, or superior Strikers in this case, use of the formation actually puts the users at a severe disadvantage... Unless of course, they are trying to draw their enemy into a trap...**

**'Lead by a Neapolitan': The actual saying would be 'Lead by a Corsican,' in reference to Napoleon Bonaparte, the 'Greatest French military leader of all time,' who was not actually French, but Corsican.**

**Neapolitan/Corsica: All the countries in the Strike Witches universe seem to have alternate names. Since 'Neapolitan' is similar to 'Napoleon,' it is the name I choose to use for the island of Corsica. Additionally, it is also the name of the classic, Chocolate-Vanilla-Strawberry, three-flavored ice-cream.**

**High-angle deflection shot: Shooting a target from directly behind, (the 'six-o'clock' position,) or directly ahead, (the 'twelve-o'clock' position,) is considered a zero-angle shot. Anything else is a 'deflection angle shot,' and because of the physics of air-to-air gunfire, grows considerably more difficult the further from a zero-angle shot an attacker gets.**

**During the current time-period as presented in this story, Manfred von Richthofen is 'General der Luftstreitkräfte,' the head of all Karlsländ air forces.**

**During the Neuroi skirmishing which occurred at the end of the second decade of the Twentieth Century, while leading Karlsländ's Jagdgeschwader 1 (JG 1) fighter wing, the famous "Richthofen's Flying Circus," Manfred von Richthofen would gain fame as one of the few living male pilots to actually destroy a Neuroi.**

**Piloting a Fokker Dr.I Triplane, Richthofen, flying in concert with several witches using extremely primitive Fokks Strikers, engaged and destroyed a Neuroi flyer which had entered Karlsländ airspace.**

**Generaloberst Udet: Ernst Udet. Top Luftstreitkräfte officer in Britannia. In normal history, Second highest scoring (surviving,) German fighter ace from WW I, and a member of "Richthofen's Flying Circus." Died under questionable circumstances in 1941.**

**Oswalda Boelcke's Dicta: Witch from the time of the initial Neuroi attacks at the end of the second decade of the twentieth century. Oswalda formed the rules, or 'Dicta,' which define the basic tactics a Strike Witch should use when fighting the Neuroi. (Oswald Boelcke, a German fighter pilot during World War I, created the basic dog fighting tactics still taught ninety years later by most of our world's air forces.)**

**High-G maneuvers: (Simplistically.) When an aircraft, or in the case of Strike Witches a Striker unit, makes a tight turn or sudden climb, the forces of gravity and inertia cause the pilot's blood to pool in the lower part of their body. Eventually this starves the brain of oxygen, potentially leading to a loss of consciousness.**

**Neu Karlsländ: There is very little information concerning Neu Karlsländ, but what there is indicates it is located in South Liberion. Since the 'United States of America' is called the 'United States of Liberion' in Strike Witches, it can reasonably be surmised that 'South Liberion' is 'South America.' Further, by extension it can also be surmised that Neu Karlsländ is located in, or takes the place of, the South American country of Argentina.**

**Niels Bohr. (Danish.) Scientist specializing in physics and chemistry who escaped out of Europe. In normal history, he was a scientist who worked on the Manhattan Project. (The atomic bomb.)**

**I probably should have included this in Chapter One: The following is the rough command structure of England's fighter air-defense organization during the Battle of Britain:**

**(Of course, within the Strike Witches story, names would be changed as appropriate. (Britannia - England, etc.)**

**Head of Fighter Command: Air Chief Marshal Hugh Dowding. (A Scotsman.)**

**11 Group: (SE England. London and environs. The heaviest fighting, and the heaviest casualties occurred here.) Air Officer Commanding Keith Park. (A New Zealander.)**

**12 Group: (Midlands. Tasked with supporting 11 Group.) Air Officer Commanding Trafford Leigh-Mallory. (An Englishman.)**

**10 Group: (South-West England. Tasked with supporting 11 Group.) Air Officer Commanding Quinton Brand. (A South African.)**

**13 Group: (North of England.) Air Officer Commanding Richard Saul. (An Irishman.)**

**14 Group: (Scotland. Islands North of England.) Air Officer Commanding Malcolm Henderson . (A Scotsman.)**

**20 Group. (Training Command. Located as necessary) Air Officer Commanding Arthur Murray Longmore. (An Australian.)**

**A 'Group' is simply a designation for the administrative/command organization responsible for the described areas.**

**The reason I listed where each of the men was from is to note that officers from England itself, (Leigh-Mallory as an example,) often took offense to various degrees when having to serve under 'provincial' officers. (Hugh Dowding as an example.) This was not necessarily wide-spread within the British military, but it did occur.**


	3. Chapter 3

Strike Witches exists as Light Novels, Manga, anime and as several non-adult, semi-official doujinshi in Japan. It is owned by Kadokawa Shoten, Gonzo, other entities and its various creators in Japan, and by Funimation (as an anime only,) in the United States, NOT by me.

Beyond how I establish the origins of several characters and a slight name-change, this story is not meant to be an AU.

As it relates to everything else, "Woher, die Zauberer?" takes place during 'The Battle of Britannia' in 1940, concurrent with the 'Suomus Misfits Squadron' series of Light-Novels, and three to four years before the time of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing.

(-)

"Woher, die Zauberer?" ("Where from, the Warlock?")

Chapter Three.

(-)

(Late evening, September 12th, 1940. Liberion aircraft carrier USS Enterprise, near the Liberion Virgin Islands.)

To Admiral William, 'Uncle Bill,' Halsey, the old Lexington would always hold a special place in his heart, but now he was on a brand-new ship, built from the keel up to handle witches flying Strikers, as well as the normal compliment of fighters, bombers, and attack planes.

Another day had come and gone, and after seeing to it that 'His' girls were back on board the ship safely, he had retired to his cabin to listen to the nightly radio broadcast from London.

Next to the radio was a photograph of himself on the Lexington, along with the first eight witches assigned to a carrier. One of the witches had her face marked out by a pen...

Thoughts of the only Neuroi Ace in the Liberion Navy, Elizabeth 'Crusher' O'Hare, so-called for how many Navy strikers she'd destroyed, still occasionally gave him a nervous tic in his left eye. Only the realization that she finally seemed to have found a useful place in the Suomus Misfits Squadron kept him from wishing grievous harm upon the girl every night before he retired...

Taking a cigarette from a case sitting next to the radio, Halsey lit it, adjusted the radio's volume, then sat down.

_"Edward R. Murrow speaking, and; This, is London._

_The Neuroi blitz of this island nation continues._

_During the day, attacks are directed against the bases of the Royal Air Force, while at night, the Neuroi continue their seemingly indiscriminate bombing of civilian targets._

_Even now, as I speak to you from the rooftop of a hotel located within the environs of the Britannian Capitol, the sounds of air-raid sirens and anti-aircraft guns can be heard in the distance._

_Overhead, the glow of fires below reflects off of the contrails left by RAF night fighters, as well as those left by the new Striker-using night-witches. Together, they struggle to protect this island nation from the ravages of the alien Neuroi._

_Prime Minister Winston Churchill's office reports..."_

A loud explosion, followed by the sudden sound of anti-aircraft guns opening up quite close to Murrow caused Halsey to scoot forward on his chair.

_"...my god! Did you see what they hit?"_

Voices in the background sounded excited, and Halsey focused on them, trying to gain some clue as to what had happened. What he heard sent a chill up his spine...

_"Ladies and Gentleman. There's been a heavy explosion quite close by, and our Britannian hosts have insisted that we take shelter immediately. On that note I'll say; this is Edward R. Murrow. Good night, and good luck."_

"Ouch!"

Realizing he'd let the cigarette burn down to his fingers, Halsey stubbed it out in an ashtray. Standing, he went over to the phone mounted on the wall next to his desk. Picking up the handset, he punched the button connecting him to the ship's bridge. "This is Admiral Halsey, Get me Captain Pownall."

The bridge crewman who had answered the phone quickly summoned Enterprise's captain.

_"Pownall speaking. What can I do for you Admiral?"_

Looking at the radio, Halsey hoped his suspicions might prove themselves incorrect. "I want someone to monitor the BBC continuously until I order otherwise. Additionally, I want our two night witches placed on a fifteen minute alert. Take them off the daytime flight-roster as well. They will now be on night duty exclusively until I say otherwise."

_"Yes Sir. I'll take care of everything at once Sir."_

Wondering when he would ever be able to get a full night's sleep again, Halsey looked over at the wall clock before shaking his head. "If Britannia just took the hit I think they did, then I hope they can deal with it without much trouble..."

(-)

(Early morning, September 13th. Over the Britannian Midlands.)

Normally, a witch wouldn't be placed in an active squadron until she was at least twelve years old...

Loss of her home country and the desperate needs of war had placed Heidemarie W. Schnaufer in a front line combat unit even before her eleventh birthday.

When a call had gone out for witches to participate in a new mixed-nationality unit, she had immediately been chosen by her commanding officer to go. Believing that meant she was thought to be worthless because of her young age, Heidemarie had collapsed into a crying wreck.

_"Not true!"_ Gruppenkommandeur Galland had been quick to explain. Yes, she was desperate to send Heidemarie away, but only because her powers as a Night Witch were too precious to risk because of inadequate training. Being sent away to what would initially be a training squadron would give her the chance to grow in age and experience with less immediate risk to life and limb. If it was her wish to return when the training was complete, she would be welcomed back with open arms.

Sniffing back her tears, Heidemarie had nodded and accepted the transfer.

To say the environment she encountered after transferring to OTU 56 was a bit of a shock only told part of the story. Though Leutnant Barkhorn still insisted on ramrod straight Karlsländ-style discipline, things where still much more relaxed under Hauptmann Bader than they had been in her old squadron.

Nearly a month of training had brought Heidemarie a promotion to Unteroffizier and more responsibility.

Though she was quite capable of flying alone at night, Hauptmann Bader and Leutnant Barkhorn had decided her training flights were too valuable to waste.

Now, on each night Heidemarie went out, she was accompanied by another witch from the squadron. The main purpose of course was to familiarize the other witches in her new squadron with night flying. However, she had also learned of another reason...

Recently, from regular RAF, Luftstreitkräfte, and Forces Aériennes Galliaises Libres squadrons, experienced witches flying alone at night had inexplicably vanished. Even though OTU 56 was only allowed to carry practice weapons, it was obvious the two officers intent was that with another witch nearby, Heidemarie would not 'inexplicably vanish.'

Tonight her companion was a twelve year old witch from Gallia named François de Labouchère. Though there was still a bit of a language barrier, hand signals and a few easily understood words the officers insisted everyone learn made working together easy enough.

Glowing green, two magical antennas extended from the side of Heidemarie's head, just past the white-feathered ear-tufts of her gyrfalcon spirit-familiar. Like all other Night Witches, the antenna let her detect anything flying in the night sky, and on especially calm nights, to pick up radio transmissions from very far away.

On this night's training patrol, she had been listening to the transmissions of a Liberion aircraft carrier as it recovered its witches until transmissions from much closer overwhelmed the signal.

As they had done on many previous nights, the Neuroi were attacking London. Normally, communication within the city was done with land-lines, to avoid openly broadcasting something the Neuroi might intercept, (presuming they even collected such intelligence,) but tonight, a lot of radio transmissions were coming out of the London area. To Heidemarie, such a sudden change could only mean something significant had happened...

Coming out of a group of thin clouds, Heidemarie looked to her right and saw that Labouchère was still close, and was even now closing once more to the proper interval. Since a few of her nighttime companions had done a lot worse, she was about to compliment the older girl for her skill when a faint-flash came from the glowing antenna. Looking back at the clouds, her attention was drawn to spot she could only describe as 'odd...' Something WAS there, but for some reason, her tracking abilities couldn't lock it in. She kept trying, and for a fleeting moment she held onto a target, but it slipped away once more. Suddenly remembering the stories about witches vanishing at night caused her to feel a shudder of fear. Whatever was in the clouds, there was no-telling how long it had been following them. If they hadn't come out into the open, it was possible they would never have noticed it until it was too late...

Just as she activated her magic-powered earpiece communication unit to report the fleeting contact, Heidemarie saw a bright-red glow begin to emanate from inside the cloud... "Ach... Achtung! Sutton Bridge! Neuroi berührung am..." _("Neuroi contact at...")_

Labouchère shouted something in Gällian just as the Neuroi fired...

(-)

(RAF Sutton Bridge.)

From where she sat in the radio bunker reading a visual novel about the witches fighting in Africa, Donna Bader jumped awkwardly to her feet and leaned over the shoulder of the man monitoring Heidemarie and Labouchère's training mission. "What happened? Get her back!"

Frantically working the dials of his equipment, the RAF radioman called repeatedly for Schnaufer or Labouchère to repeat the contact report. After several more tries, he turned back to Captain Bader. "It's no use Ma'am. They're either not able to respond, or there's some kind of interference blocking the transmissions..."

Common sense told Donna she should immediately send out every witch in OTU 56 who had enough experience and training to fly at night, but they had never been issued with, or authorized to carry real weapons. If there was a Neuroi out there, they wouldn't be able to fight it. "Strewth!" Seething, she finally turned back and put her hand on the radioman's shoulder. "Contact RAF Duxford! That's the closest base with Night Witches!"

With a nod, the radioman moved to follow his orders.

(-)

(Near the Ouse River, East Anglia, Britannia. 2nd platoon, D Company, Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry.)

A shriek in the sky, followed by the sound of an impact and something shattering woke Leftenant John Howard from a sound sleep. His Sergeant was already up, going around waking the rest of the unit. Another shriek, followed by the red flash of a Neuroi beam and the ghostly-blue of a magic shield activating immediately brought him to full wakefulness. "Second Platoon stand to! Prepare to move out!"

Immediately after the command, the sounds of fighting came again, and the platoon redoubled its efforts to get ready.

Not wanting to wait, Howard began running up the forested hill his unit was bivouacking on, trusting the Sergeant to quickly follow with the rest of the platoon. Nearing the crest, he dropped to the ground and did a quick crawl forward until he could see into the draw on the other side...

Down below, an insectoid-shaped Neuroi about the size of a small car was advancing on what seemed from the equipment she was wearing to be a witch. Cradling the limp form of another girl in one arm, the silver-haired witch held out the other and deployed her shield once more as a shriek sounded and the attacking Neuroi fired its beam weapon again.

Normally regular troops had an extremely difficult time fighting the Neuroi, even with heavy weapons. However, if something wasn't done, one of Churchill's 'Few' would be killed, and Britannia's defenses lessened by that much.

Scooting back a bit, Howard turned to find his Sergeant waiting for him. _("Boys Rifles up! Platoon deploy in a line along the crest! Double quick! There's a witch in trouble down there!")_

Whispered orders flowed back down the gathered soldiers. Showing speed which did their training proud; the platoon's two heavy rifle teams were instantly on the hill's crest.

With the Neuroi now nearly on top of the witch, Howard saw everyone else was also ready, so he jumped to his feet. "UP the OX and Bucks! Open fire!"

Two sharp, heavy cracks rang out, followed immediately by the sound of almost thirty men opening up with Thompsons, Bren Light Machine-guns, and Enfield rifles.

The Neuroi actually staggered from the impact of the Boys shots, then began twitching and trying to turn around as the weight of the conventional firepower directed at it began to send pieces of its carapace flying off to disintegrate into snow white dust.

Behind the Neuroi, Howard could see the shield of the witch easily shedding the platoon's fire, just as he'd been told it could. "Grenades!"

As the automatic weapons continued firing, the men with Enfields set them down and reached for the Mills Bombs at their waists.

Staggering again from hits by the Boys heavy rifles, the Neuroi hesitated for a moment, then finally managed to slew itself around and fire.

To Howard's left, one of his riflemen simply vanished, as if the man had never even existed. The rest drew their arms back and a near dozen grenades rained down on and in front of the Neuroi. The creature vanished in the ripple of explosions, and when they faded, it was down and crippled, but most distressingly already healing the damage.

_"Der Core! Ankommen der Core!"_

Exposed within the Neuroi's inner working was a glowing red crystal. As the creature's carapace began recovering, Howard's Sergeant responded to the witch's heavily accented, shouted words and leapt to the Boys rifleman to direct their fire.

Six heavy shots cracked out in rapid succession. Just as it seemed the effort would prove futile, one of the heavy, armor-piercing bullets hit home. The red crystal shattered, and with it, the Neuroi.

Ignoring the slowly dispersing white shards of the Neuroi, Howard ran down into the draw to check on the condition of the witch. In the light of the nearly full moon and the green glow of antenna identifying her as a Night Witch, he finally understood the accent when he saw her Karlsländ uniform. Wearing the dark blue of Free Gallia and cradled in the girl's arms was another badly wounded witch. "Medic forward!"

Red Cross prominent on his sleeve, the medic quickly appeared and knelt next to the two witches. However, after a brief examination, he shook his head and stood back up.

Knowing what that meant, the Karlsländ witch looked up at Howard, tears pouring from her eyes. "Wenn wir waren überfiel, Sie gestoßen mich beiseite und nahmt die Schuß vom Neuroi... Letzte Monat ICH absichtlich bankrott etwas irgend köstlich ihr, und still Sie tat es!" _("When we were attacked, she shoved me aside and took the shot from the Neuroi... Last month I deliberately broke something precious to her, and still she did it!")_

Turning away as the witch began sobbing, rocking back and forth while cradling her companion, Howard kicked at part of a splintered tree branch lying on the ground. "How old was that poor girl? Twelve? Thirteen? I can't believe we've been reduced to depending on little girls just to survive! What's the point of thirty men going around, armed to the teeth, if they can't even protect one little girl?"

Before the Sergeant could answer, a Lance-Corporal came up, holding a twisted Bren-gun. Even at night, it was easy to see the red paint identifying it as a practice weapon... taking the ruined gun, the Sergeant examined it for a moment, then shook his head. "This is why those two witches were in trouble, Sir. They must be from that unit at Sutton Bridge."

Confused, Howard looked at the ruined weapon, then over at the witch. As a pair of riflemen used their field tunics and Enfields to create a simple stretcher, the medic was trying with some difficulty to get the Karlsländer to let go of the deceased Gallian. "That's ridiculous! They're in a war zone and they're still carrying practice weapons?"

Stepping closer, the Sergeant looked Howard right in the eye. "Not that I know anything, 'official,' mind you Sir, but I've a hometown mate in the RAF over at Sutton Bridge. He told me last week that high command has withheld permission for the witches in the unit there to carry real weapons. Something about them just being a training unit, so they don't need them."

Shocked, Howard stared at his Sergeant for a moment, then shook his head in disgust. "Get the men ready to move out. We need to get back to regimental base camp and report what happened. When that's done, I'll take some men and a lorry and deliver the girls back to Sutton Bridge." Just as the man saluted and started to turn, Howard stopped him. "Who did we lose?"

Looking around for a moment at the men, the Sergeant finally turned back to Howard. "Todd, Sir. Private Richard Todd."

Nodding, Howard let the Sergeant go on his way.

(-)

(Mid-afternoon, 14 September, 1940. RAF Watnall. 12 Group HQ.)

"...and I will not request the use of your unit, even to hunt these so-called 'Ambush-bug' Neuroi, nor will I approve the issuance of live ordinance until such time as it is deemed combat ready! We have few enough weapons as it is; I have no intention of wasting any on a unit that loses a member on a training mission! Do I make myself clear Captain Bader? If you're going to continue insisting I request activation of OTU 56 as a combat unit, then I'll have you arrested for insubordination!"

Waiting in the outer office of 12 Group's commander, Lieutenant Roberta Johnson wondered how Captain Bader would answer Trafford Leigh-Mallory's tirade.

Confirmation that the Neuroi had been ambushing Night Witches was quickly passed up to Fighter Command Headquarters in London, with thanks rapidly coming back from Hugh Dowding himself. However, such thanks still didn't make up for the sight of OTU 56's first death as Leftenant Howard and his men unloaded the small, frail-looking, battered body from their lorry.

Later, in the privacy of the witch's barracks, Leutnant Barkhorn had flown into a rage, saying two witches could have easily dealt with such a small Neuroi if they'd only been armed with real weapons.

Just as angry, though slightly calmer, Captain Bader had agreed. Many hours of relentless effort climbing up the chain of command had secured her an appointment with the man who would have to request the combat use of OTU 56, 12 Groups commander, Trafford Leigh-Mallory.

Though Donna had told Roberta on the way up from Sutton Bridge that she hoped it would be otherwise, it sounded as if her worst fears had been confirmed, and the request turned down once more...

"Sir! I understand Sir! The request is withdrawn!"

Standing, Roberta waited for the stone-faced Donna to exit Leigh-Mallory's inner office. Sensing it was best not to say anything for the moment, she followed in silence as the captain strode angrily out to the Austin Tilly light truck they'd driven up from Sutton Bridge in. "No go, huh?"

Remaining quiet, Donna got into the truck, waited for Roberta to do the same, then drove off. Not until they were well away from Watnall did her demeanor finally crack. "A pox on that arrogant fool! He can't be rid of all the regular witch units because he knows he can't really do without them, but he's determined to see OTU 56 fail! Unfortunately, he's got the authority to make sure that happens! As long as he refuses to call on us for help, there's no need to authorize the issuance of real weapons!"

As the Austin passed through several villages, Roberta began to notice the lanes were strangely empty... However, thoughts about how to deal with the problem at hand kept her mind focused in that direction. When they finally turned onto the road for Sutton Bridge, she crossed her arms and looked slyly over at Donna. "As I'm sure you Brits know, we Liberions have a bit of a rebellious streak in us..."

Glancing towards Roberta, Donna saw the Liberion's expression and raised an eyebrow.

After meeting the look for only an instant, Roberta placed an arm in the Austin's open window and began watching the countryside go by. "If I look hard enough, I might just find some weapons lying around... Who knows, that Lieutenant Howard seemed sympathetic to our having the right to defend ourselves, perhaps I could ask him if he knows where some are if he's still at the base..."

Thinking about the risks and ramifications of Roberta's suggestion, Donna remained silent until she pulled the Austin to a stop outside Sutton Bridge's main gate. As the guard came forward to examine their identification papers, it was obvious his mind wasn't exactly focused on what was happening. "Is something wrong Sergeant?"

Startled, the Tommy gave Donna a blank look for a second, then handed back the two sets of identification. "Some... something bad happened in London last night Ma'am. They've just announced on the radio that the Prime Minister is going to address the nation at the top of the hour."

Looking at her watch, Donna noted the time before returning the guard's salute and pressing down on the accelerator. "We've got just enough time to reach the barracks."

Sensing her companion's apprehension, Roberta held on as the Austin raced across the base, arriving with the screech of worn tires outside the barracks housing the rest of OTU 56's witches. Throwing open her door, she raced around to the other side to help the stiff-legged Donna extract herself, then lead the way inside.

Being forced to do so by nearly a week of continuous rain, the witches of OTU 56 had worked to construct double-decker beds so everyone could have a dry place to sleep, despite the resultant crowding. Now, they were gathered around a radio placed on a crate in the small common area that had been created in the back of the barracks.

Barkhorn and Perrine saluted before returning their attention to the radio...

_"This is the BBC in London._

_Prime Minister Winston Churchill is about to make..."_

To Roberta, and by their posture and whispering, many of the other witches as well, it sounded as if the radio announcer was fighting to hold back from sobbing openly...

_"...pa... pardon me... Prime Minister Churchill is about to make an official announcement to the Country, and the Empire."_

Everyone in the barracks leaned forward and tensed up as a few hisses and pops came over the radio.

_"This is the Prime Minister speaking to all Britannian subjects here at home; serving throughout the world in our armed forces, or in whatever far-flung land business or their travels may have taken them._

_Of all the duties it has been my privilege to fulfill, the one I must perform now is the most somber I could possibly think of..."_

As Barkhorn and Perrine translated the words into their respective languages, Roberta saw Donna suddenly give an unnatural shudder. Seeing the tension in the Britannian's body, she knew with a certainty that something dreadful must have happened...

_"...George the Sixth, our King, is dead."_

From Donna Bader, perhaps also from Britannian's all over the world, Gertrude Barkhorn felt such a sudden sense of loss and grief it was almost a physical blow... OTU 56's leader was calm and stoic on the surface, jaw tightly clenched and lips thin, but a soft keening whine was beginning to sound from her throat...

_"In order that he might provide confidence to the residents of London, as well as Britannians everywhere, through his presence, our sovereign chose to remain in the capital._

_Last night, during a heavy Neuroi raid, Buckingham Palace was hit. Despite a level of protection which was considered sufficient, the bunker sheltering the King, his wife, and many others employed at Buckingham Palace suffered several direct hits. Though none of the Neuroi weapons penetrated the bunker itself, their concussive effect was so great, all those inside perished."_

Similar to the time Ernsta Mayer had insulted Captain Bader, Perrine suddenly felt a cold chill. Turning to look, she saw that the captain's look had changed from one of loss to one of rage...

_"Princess Elizabeth, the King's daughter, was away training with a special auxiliary unit of the RAF and is safe. She is now the Queen-designate, and has been recalled to the capital._

_By established rules of succession, we will begin a national period of mourning. A Regency will immediately be established to insure continuity within the Monarchy, and upon turning eighteen, Princess Elizabeth will assume her full responsibilities and duties as Queen of Britannia._

_I implore everyone to carry on. Even as we mourn, we must not fail to see through to the end our efforts against the Neuroi._

_Though these pestilential creatures have struck us a heavy blow, perhaps one beyond the capabilities of their alien minds to understand, Britannia shall endure, as it always has, until ultimately, victory is ours."_

Returning to the microphone, the announcer gave information about tentative funeral arrangements, then said something about Queen-designate Elizabeth speaking the next day. Roberta ignored that. Like hers, the attention and eyes of fifteen other girls was focused on Donna.

Seeing Captain Bader struggling to make a decision, Perrine stood. "Captain Bader. The Neuroi have struck us a severe blow as well! How then, are they to answer for such things?" Behind Perrine, the rest of the Gallians stood to show their support.

Standing up along with the rest of the Karlsländers, Gertrude Barkhorn clenched her fist and took a step forward. "Hauptmann Bader! All of us know how to fight! All we ask is that we be permitted to do so! Those who don't have real combat experience have still been training nearly non-stop, and for all that you consider my opinion to count, I feel that everyone is ready!" As a chorus of agreement sounded, Barkhorn glanced at Heidemarie Schnaufer, who nodded with determination, then faced Bader once more. "We need not have suffered such a loss! This inexplicable delay in activating our unit is the REAL cause! If we had been given weapons, it is the NEUROI who would have fallen, not our Gällian kamerad!"

A renewed round of nods and restrained shouts of agreement made the decision for Donna. Straightening up, she gave everyone in the barracks a determined look. "Very well then. Begging forgiveness is always easier than asking permission."

Reaching out, Roberta touched Donna's shoulder before pointing out the door. "I'll go see if Lieutenant Howard is still on the base."

With a nod, Donna sent Roberta on her way before turning to face the rest of the witches in OTU 56. "Even though this is being done to make sure no one else in this unit dies without the chance to fight back, I want all of you to understand that trouble will most assuredly come our way when 12 Group finds out."

After translating for their companions, Barkhorn and Perrine turned and lead the thirteen other witches in a display of sharp salutes.

Bader quickly returned the salute, then walked over to a map of Lincolnshire County that was pinned to the wall behind the radio. "Okay then. However we manage to secure weapons, I've got an idea how we can go about keeping it a secret for a while..."

(-)

(Midnight. 15 September, 1940. RAF Watnall. 12 Group HQ.)

Still annoyed by Captain Bader's earlier request that OTU 56 be activated as a combat unit, Trafford Leigh-Mallory tried to find relaxation in things which were easier to control than a bothersome, crippled witch. The report which lay on his desk was a statistical analysis by Doctor Niels Bohr which predicted the Midlands town of Coventry should be the target of a Neuroi raid within twenty-four hours. Also sent to the government in London, the report meant additional RAF and anti-aircraft units would be assigned to defend the city.

More defenses for Coventry made his job easier in more ways than one... protecting a vital industrial center was important, but the increased number of personnel in the area also meant it would be easier for Bohr's recovery teams to move around without undue attention being directed their way.

With such a concentration of defensive firepower, surely that which was needed for the special project being directed by Air Commodore Malloney would fall easily into their hands.

tsuzuku.

(-)

**Author's Notes:**

**I'm going on a short vacation, so it may be a few weeks before the next chapter comes out.**

**Elizabeth 'Crusher' O'Hare: A Liberion witch from the Suomus Misfits Squadron series of light novels. Infamous for the number of Strikers she's wrecked or otherwise destroyed. At the end of her last mission aboard the USS Lexington, she managed to destroy the last eight Strikers on the ship during a landing accident. The other seven witches were sent to the infirmary, but O'Hare escaped without a scratch.**

**Heidemarie W. Schnaufer: A Karlsländ witch who has only appeared in the eight chapter manga 'The Sky That Connects Us,' which covers the time period between the two Strike Witches anime seasons. As I could find no information on her home unit, I placed her in Adolfine Galland's JG 26. At the time of "Woher, die Zauberer?" she is not yet twelve.**

**Gruppenkommandeur Galland: Adolfine Galland of JG 26, 'The Abbeville Girls.' (Based on Adolf Galland, JG 26, 'The Abbeville Boys,' a German fighter unit based around Abbeville France during WW II.) By 1944, (time of the 501st Strike Witches,) Adolfine Galland is Chief of all Karlsländ witches.**

******Night Witch: A witch with a type of magic that gives them the ability to use Radar, as well as to detect and receive radio transmissions.******

**Mills Bombs: Britannian version of the standard Liberion (US) 'Pineapple' grenade.**

**Boys anti-tank rifle: 1940 Britannian version of the modern Barrette .50 caliber anti-material rifle. This is the same weapon used by Lynette Bishop in the 'Strike Witches' anime.**

**Thompsons, Bren Light Machine-guns, Enfield rifles: Weapons used by Britannian (British) Infantry in 1940. The Thompson is an export version of the famous 'Tommy-gun' of Liberion (US) Prohibition-Era fame. The Bren Light Machinegun is used by Perrine Clostermann in the Strike Witches anime.**

**Private Richard Todd: Richard Todd was an actor who served in the British Army during World War II. He actually met Major John Howard at Pegasus Bridge (A battle shown in the 1962 movie; 'The Longest Day,) and would later play John Howard during the filming of that movie. **

**Tommy: Britannian version of a common soldier, or G.I.**

**On September 13th, 1940, five German bombs DID hit Buckingham Palace. Fortunately, no one was seriously injured. That the Neuroi do 'drop bombs' is documented in several of the light novels, as well as in episode 11 of the second season of the Strike Witches anime.**

**At the time this story takes place, Princess Elizabeth, (Queen Elizabeth II,) was fourteen years old. She did serve in an auxiliary unit during the war, but instead of being in an RAF unit, where I placed her for the purposes of this story, she served in an army unit.**


	4. Chapter 4

Strike Witches exists as Light Novels, Manga, anime and as several non-adult, semi-official doujinshi in Japan. It is owned by Kadokawa Shoten, Gonzo, other entities and its various creators in Japan, and by Funimation (as an anime only,) in the United States, NOT by me.

Beyond how I establish the origins of several characters and a slight name-change, this story is not meant to be an AU.

As it relates to everything else, "Woher, die Zauberer?" takes place during 'The Battle of Britannia' in 1940, concurrent with the 'Suomus Misfits Squadron' series of Light-Novels, and three to four years before the time of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing.

My thanks to Kafka'sdragon, who helped me resolve a particularly thorny problem I was having.

Words in parentheses and bold-type, **("Like this.")** are translated Karlsländer/Karlsländish.

(I took a little more time off than I originally intended. My appologies for the long delayed chapter four.)

(-)

"Woher, die Zauberer?" ("Where from, the Warlock?")

Chapter Four. (Der Tag.)

(-)

(Dawn. September 15th, 1940.)

(RAF Sutton Bridge.)

Standing in the airfield control tower, the commander of RAF Sutton Bridge watched as Donna Bader lead her multi-national squadron of Strike Witches out on its next training mission.

To one side of the RAF captain were the witches from Gallia, with the Liberion observer Leftenant Johnson filling in for their recent casualty. On the other side were the Karlsländ witches, with the dour, dog-eared Leftenant Barkhorn in the lead position.

Together, the seventeen witches circled the base once before heading west towards the training area listed by Captain Bader in her mission plan.

Satisfied the girls were finally gone, the base commander turned towards a non-commissioned officer standing nearby. "Signal RAF Fowlmere. Let them know OTU 56 has departed on their scheduled training mission, and that Sutton Bridge now stands ready to support an action which may occur today."

(-)

After being airborne for less than fifteen minutes, Donna pumped her left hand up and down twice to get the squadron's attention. Not wanting to openly broadcast anything related to what they were going to do by using their transceivers, she had warned everyone to watch for hand signals. When the other sixteen witches of OTU 56 were all facing her, she made the motions for 'Follow me,' held up three fingers, closed them one at a time, then dropped down out of the center of the formation and dove towards the Ouse River.

One after another, the witches of OTU 56 quickly followed. Leveling out just above the water, they spread out in staggered, single-file column with Captain Bader in the lead, and Lieutenant Johnson bringing up the rear.

Following the meandering river, Donna lead the way in silence until she reached a small sheltered area near the place Heidemarie Schnaufer and François de Labouchère had been ambushed by the bug Neuroi. Waiting there were several small tracked vehicles surrounded by watchful Britannian soldiers. Unexpectedly, an officer she'd not seen before, wearing a uniform more appropriate to garrison duty than to that in the field, was standing next to Leftenant Howard. Warily, she move in and flared out into a landing. As her striker unit sank slightly into the soft soil on the riverbank and the rest of the squadron came in to land around her, she gave the young infantry officer a questioning look.

Deferring to someone who was obviously a superior officer, Howard followed as the excited man held out his hand and stepped forward.

"Captain Bader?"

Still being guarded in the face of the officer's unexpected presence, Donna took his hand. "Yes?"

Grasping the offered hand, the officer gave it a vigorous shake. "I'm so glad to have the chance to meet you and your ladies, Captain Bader! My niece Cecilia is serving as a Hard-skin Strike Witch in North Africa, but beyond that, I'm a big fan of all the Prime Minister's Strike Witches!"

Confusion still showing on her face, Donna tried to relax as the officer released her hand. "Thank you. Though if you don't mind, may I ask why you're here?"

Giving a soft cough, Leftenant Howard stepped forward. "My fault Ma'am. When I went to request additional weapons for the 'experiment' with my platoon, the Quartermaster Sergeant didn't want to release them. Colonel Crittendon here is the Ox and Bucks ordinance officer. He happened by and overheard me getting a bit testy about the matter. Being quite the perceptive sort, the Colonel quickly figured out what I was trying to do. He offered to order the sergeant to release the weapons, but only if he could come along when I delivered them."

Turning to watch as the colonel went around offering thanks and encouragement to all her subordinates, Donna finally understood that the man might be a bit overly enthusiastic about Witches, but he certainly wasn't any kind of a threat. When he finally stood before her again, she gave him a polite bow. "Thank you Sir, on behalf of my unit, for helping us deal with a greatly distressing matter."

Beaming, Crittendon waved a hand dismissively. "It was but a small thing to do so. I should apologize myself for not getting you the newest weapons we have. Issuing them from the refurbishment pool though will make it easier to deal with any questions which might arise over the wear and tear you'll give them while training."

With that, the colonel turned and signaled Leftenant Howard's men to start distributing the weapons which were carefully stacked inside the Bren-gun carriers they'd been guarding. Everything proceeded smoothly as the witches, their striker engines idling slowly to help keep them from sinking too far into the soft earth, quickly exchanged their red-painted practice weapons for real Bren Light Machine-guns or drum-fed Thompson sub-machine guns.

Recalling a picture she'd seen of Prime-Minister Churchill holding such a weapon, Donna had to smile. A Britannian reporter had said about the image that the prime minister looked like a Liberion Prohibition-Era gangster. Though there had never been a unit of rum-running witches in Liberion, the idea they looked like a bunch of gangsters getting ready for a hit held its own irony. If OTU 56 was given the opportunity, then proved itself able to withstand the ordeal of combat, as she believed it could, then that would certainly be a 'hit' against Leigh-Mallory and his chauvinistic hatred for witches!

"Haven't you got anything with a larger ammunition capacity than a Bren-gun?"

Not far away, Donna could see Leftenant Barkhorn giving the Bren-gun being held out to her a look of disdain. Seeing one of Leftenant Howard's men resting easy with a weapon fed by a high-capacity drum magazine, instead of the Bren's more quickly-emptied clip, the dog-eared Karlsländer pointed towards the Tommy.

"What about that?"

Moving away from Donna, Crittendon went over to Barkhorn. "A Lewis Machine-gun?" When she him gave a desirous smile, he flinched slightly. "Surely you can't mean to use something like that? It's heavier than it looks..."

Undeterred, Barkhorn looked to Howard, who in turn signaled the soldier to bring his weapon over.

When the Karlsländ witch took the Lewis-gun from him with unexpected ease, holding in one hand something usually requiring two hands, or a shoulder sling, the Tommy showed barely concealed consternation over her having done so.

Seeing that, Barkhorn gave the young soldier a sympathetic grin. "Don't worry about it. My magic is strength magic, and I normally use paired MG-34's, so this is nothing to me!" Look closely at the cooling jacket over the Lewis-gun's barrel, she shook her head. "Can this come off? It'll cause a lot of drag, and I don't think I'll need it while I'm flying. Also, do you have any extra ammunition? I'd like to be able to find out if carrying it will be a problem."

With a shrug, the Tommy took a bag holding two extra drums from his shoulder and handed it to Barkhorn. As she put it over her own shoulder, he removed his thin backpack, then knelt in front of her and reached inside for a small tool kit.

When the Tommy finished removing the Lewis-gun's cooling jacket and stood back up, Barkhorn nodded to express her thanks. "Whenever we finally get to fight, I'll go out and try to put this to good use killing Neuroi for you."

Seeing Barkhorn's deadly serious look, the young soldier nodded, gave her a sharp salute, then moved away.

With everyone finally satisfied, Donna increased the prop-speed of her striker just enough to lift off and move to float in front of the rest of OTU 56's witches. "Okay then. I don't expect we'll encounter any trouble today. That's why I planned a training mission route out over the Midlands and Wales. After we've had a few days to get used to the weight and feel of our weapons, we'll start flying out over the Channel and the North Sea so we can do some live-fire practice."

With but a thought, all the witches increased the speed of their strikers, lifted off, then followed Donna into the sky.

When Colonel Crittendon gave an odd shudder just as the last witch departed, Leftenant Howard moved over and gave him a curious look. "Something wrong, Sir?"

Still staring into the now empty sky, Crittendon shook his head slightly. "No... Not specifically about them at least, I just had a sudden feeling that something awful is about to happen..."

Unsure how to respond to such a statement, Howard looked after the now vanished witches for a moment, then turned away. 'Strange feelings' aside, he and his men had their own exercises to run while they waited for Captain Bader and her witches to return.

(-)

(Dover Chain-Home Radar Station.)

"Uxbridge control, Dover Station reporting. Neuroi raid forming over Calais."

_"Dover, Uxbridge control. Acknowledged."_

Having been warned to expect some kind of Neuroi raid on the fifteenth, the controlling RAF officer at the Dover Chain Home Radar Station wasn't surprised when his crew reported their first contact of the day. Expecting the normal-sized raid to come out of the Neuroi hive floating over Gallia though, didn't prepare him for the rude shock he received when the radar operator reported that the size of the raid was continuing to grow. Trying to remain calm, despite the fear he felt over what was being reported, he turned to the person manning the connection to RAF Uxbridge and motioned for them to continue relaying what the radar operator was saying...

(RAF Uxbridge. 11 Group Headquarters.)

As the Gallian section of the plotting map began to darken with Neuroi targets, Keith Park, 11 Group's Air Officer Commanding, turned to face his operations officer. "Alert all fighter and witch stations. Contact 10 Group and 12 Group at once and ask them to stand ready to support us. Contact Bentley Priory as well to make sure Fighter Command understands it's not going to be a normal raid today..."

Nodding, the officer moved to carry out his instructions.

(RAF Hornchurch. JG 26. The Abbeville Girls.)

Running up the short stairway of her striker dock, Oberstleutnant Adolphina Galland shed her shoes and made the short jump needed to mount the Messerscharf. As the magic props activated and spun up, she grabbed her MG-34 from its mounting bracket and moved out to face the rest of her unit.

**("Okay then! The Neuroi are coming over in unusually high numbers today. Whatever the significance of their doing so is, our duty to Karlsländ is clear... Kill them all. Let NONE escape.")**

Many grim nods came in answer to Galland's words.

**("Every Neuroi destroyed brings us one step closer to freeing Karlsländ. At the same time, the loss of even a single witch is likely a net gain for the Neuroi. Therefore; remember your training. Stick with your wing-witch. Cooperate with each other, and come back alive.")**

Around Galland, the witches of JG 26 raised their weapons and shouted to show their determination...

(-)

(Over the Britannian Midlands, heading west towards Wales.)

"Captain! Captain Bader!"

Responding to the worried voice coming through her transceiver, Donna Bader turned to see Heidemarie Schnaufer signaling a request to come closer. Though it was much more difficult to do in the daytime, she had asked the Karlsländer to use her magic to monitor Fighter Command communication frequencies for anything that might be of interest to OTU 56. With just a minor adjustment to the angle of her legs, she climbed slightly so Heidemarie could use a similar maneuver to come to her side and speak without using a transceiver. "What have you got?"

Reaching up, Heidemarie held a hand near the glowing green antenna surrounding her head. "Captain Bader... I... I'm picking up a lot of activity from down south in 11 Group's area. From what I can tell, the Neuroi have launched an unusually large raid..." When Bader nodded to acknowledge the report, Heidemarie lowered her hand. "I've also heard broadcasts from several 11 Group squadrons asking when reinforcements from 10 and 12 Groups will arrive..."

Looking back over her shoulder, Donna tried briefly to imagine what was happening down near London before facing Heidemarie once more. "Have you heard anything from the 12 Group squadrons?

Heidemarie nodded immediately. "Yes Captain. I believe several of them, including most of the witch squadrons, have already headed south."

Recalling the saying about 'Best laid plans...' Donna shook her head before signaling for the squadron to halt. Quickly pulling into hovers, all of them moved to gather where they could hear her speak. "It seems as if something significant is going on down by London. If 12 Group winds up being stripped of all its witch squadrons, there's a possibility we might get to see action sooner than I expected."

A sharp snap caused everyone to turn towards Roberta Johnson. The Liberion witch had pulled back and released the charging handle on her drum-fed Thompson, then shouldered the now loaded sub-machinegun so it was pointed safely away from her companions. Though she had not been ordered to do so, the look on her face dared OTU 56's leader to deny the action was wrong.

Of no mind to argue with the Roberta, Donna gave a single nod before moving to charge her own Thompson. Fifteen additional ratcheting or snapping sounds followed, and, pursuant to orders or not, OTU 56 had become a fully operational squadron. "We're going to turn back towards Sutton Bridge. We'll patrol between there and Coventry. If the fighting down south spreads north, we'll be in a better position there to do something. In addition; when we reach a safe area I'll fire a short test burst from my weapon. After all of you have done the same, move into combat formation for our patrol."

In response to Donna stiffening to attention and giving a sharp salute, the witches of OTU 56 did the same, then followed silently as their leader dropped out of her hover and turned back to the east.

(-)

(Late Morning.)

(11 Group. over RAF Hornchurch.)

Holding steady in a turn, Adolfina Galland pulled lead on a Neuroi fighter-craft, then squeezed the trigger on her MG-34. The weapon chattered remorselessly, sending a stream of tracers out to chew at the carapace of the enemy unit before breaking inside to shatter the core crystal.

With an otherworldly ring, the Neuroi burst apart into scattering white flakes which rained down over the Britannian countryside.

Rolling out of the attack, Galland climbed with her wing-witch to an altitude where she could better see the entire battle.

Contrails criss-crossed the sky, intersecting with the downbursts of disintegrating Neuroi, the occasional black trail of one of the few remaining RAF fighters going down, or that of a Witch, doing the same.

Only a very few men were still in the fight. The rest had all been lost to the slashing red of Neuroi beams after less than an hour of battle. Those who remained had been assigned to rear area patrols behind the thin line of defense still being held by striker-using witches.

As Galland watched, a distant Neuroi fired its beam weapon. A blue flash, followed by a burst of black smoke which immediately began arcing towards the ground, was a distressing indication that the line of defense had just become that much thinner. The spiraling trail finally leveled out in a manner confirming that the casualty was a witch, and that she had managed to survive, at least for the moment.

Even though their 'fighter' aircraft weren't terribly sophisticated, and could easily be shot down, the Neuroi were slowly wearing down their witch opponents through simple weight of numbers.

Reaching back for another reload, Galland found her belt empty of new ammunition drums... for the third time that day... very much more, and she just might wind up like the apparently wounded witch she could even now see going in for a shaky landing, far below at RAF Hornchurch...

(-)

(RAF Uxbridge. 11 Group Headquarters.)

Despite the depth underground of his fighter control center, Air Officer Commanding Keith Park could feel faint rumbling as Neuroi bombers plastered the field above. That the creatures were able to concentrate enough firepower to do so meant that 11 Groups defenses, despite the help they had received from 10 and 12 Group, were potentially on the verge of collapse.

Down below around the plotting table, Park could see the Women's Auxiliaries gamely remaining at their posts, moving around the little stands displaying information concerning what was going on in the world above... Something about what was being shown by the table was starting to trouble him... As he watched, one of the girls moved a stand out of 12 Group's area and into 11 Group's area. _("At least Leigh-Mallory isn't begrudging us his support today...") _Glancing over at a readiness tracking board, he suddenly realized that 12 Group had been stripped of nearly half its regular fighter squadrons, as well as ALL of its witch squadrons... Effectively, the industrial midlands were defenseless... Leigh-Mallory might not think so, since he still retained a significant fighter force and strong anti-aircraft defenses, but against an enemy like the Neuroi...

"Sir..."

Starting slightly, Park turned to his operations officer. "Yes? What is it?"

Though his hand trembled slightly, the man was managing to otherwise remain outwardly calm. "Fighter strength is down nearly ninety percent, it may be closer to ninety-five, but communications are starting to suffer from disruptions. From what we know for sure, all the witch units are down to nearly fifty-percent strength."

Grimly, Park nodded before reaching out for the paper held by his operations officer. "What's that?"

Actually gulping with barely controlled fear, the man handed over the message form. "Chain Home is reporting possible Neuroi activity in Zuidland. There's no confirmation yet, but it could mean another raid is forming..."

Examining the hastily scrawled words on the paper, Park remained motionless for a moment, then handed it back. "Relay to Fighter Command that we are aware of the possibility of a new Neuroi raid. Tell them we will start trying to organize a reserve of witch units, then I want you to get on it right away."

Relieved to have something to focus his attention on, the officer saluted and turned immediately to go carry out Park's orders.

Slumping slightly in his chair, Keith Park shook his head. _("A minute ago I was praising Leigh-Mallory for recognizing the danger down here in 11 Group. Now I find myself cursing him for his hatred of witches... He had better hope nothing as serious as what's going on down here comes out of that report about possible Neuroi activity in the Midlands...")_

(-)

(Stoke Holy Cross Chain-Home Radar Station.)

"Watnall Control, Stoke Holy Cross reporting. Neuroi raid confirmed. Now approaching over the North Sea. Approximate landfall expected near Norwich."

_"Stoke Holy Cross, Watnall Control. Acknowledged."_

(-)

(RAF Watnall. 12 Group Headquarters.)

In his operations room, Air Officer Commanding Trafford Leigh-Mallory of 12 Group tried to suppress the anticipation he felt. The raid now crossing the North Sea was quite small; perhaps even just a single large unit, so it was most likely nothing more than a distraction intended to draw forces away from the huge raid in 11 Group's area. With all the defenses he still had control of, including fighters and anti-aircraft guns massed around important targets, there shouldn't be any problems that couldn't be dealt with. Additionally; with no annoying witch units around to bother Niels Bohr's recovery teams, getting what was needed for the project the scientist was working on should be relatively easy.

(-)

(12 Group. No. 242 Squadron. (Hawker fighters.) Airborne near RAF Coltishall.)

"Duxford Control, 242 Squadron at altitude. Cloud cover over the North Sea is quite heavy, so no enemy currently in sight."

_"242 Squadron Leader, Duxford Control. Maintain current course and altitude. You should intercept enemy unit within the next few minutes."_

Not sure if he'd heard right, 242's squadron leader shook his head. _("Enemy 'UNIT?" What?")_ "Duxford Control, 242 Squadron. Did you say; 'Enemy unit?'"

_"242 Squadron Leader, Duxford Control. Repeat; 'Enemy Unit.' Should be easy work for an anti-bomber squadron such as yourselves."_

Such 'confidence' from someone on the ground did nothing to hearten that of 242's squadron leader. He'd heard about the massacre of male fighter units down in 11 Group's area, and even if it wasn't the usual swarm of small enemy units, wasn't very happy to be flying out to intercept a type of Neuroi that hadn't been seen before...

"Tally-ho! Something in the clouds out at one-o'clock!"

Responding to the call, 242's squadron leader snapped his eyes out to the indicated direction.

Slowly becoming visible within the clouds was a geometrically cylindrical object that looked like a huge flying cigar. Emerging completely into the open, it immediately began turning towards 242 Squadron. All along the spine of the object, as well as along two lines one-third of the way down the sides of the cylinder from its spine, were rows of crimson colored crystals that were all beginning to glow brightly...

"242 Squadron! BREAK-OFF AND DISENGUAGE! BREAK-OFF AND..."

(-)

(RAF Watnall. 12 Group Headquarters.)

A report from the radio room relaying No. 242 Squadron's last transmission had set Leigh-Mallory to seething. The officer had sighted the enemy and immediately ordered a retreat. Now, despite calls for a response, there was nothing to hear but static. Other squadrons which had been moving to reinforce 242 were also quickly falling silent after reporting the enemy had been sighted...

(-)

(12 Group. RAF Coltishall.)

In Coltishall's control tower, the Wing Commander in charge of the airfield was quickly losing any belief he might have ever really had that males using normal weapons could actually fight the Neuroi.

To the east, out where the fighter squadrons stationed at the airfield had gone to intercept the Neuroi reported by 12 Group Headquarters, there had been a series of brilliant, lightning-like flashes of red light within the clouds. Moments later, dozens of smoky black trails had appeared out of the clouds and begun spinning down towards the earth. Contact with the squadrons had been cut off, and now everyone in the control tower was sitting there in silence, paralyzed by the magnitude of what had apparently happened.

Seeing a lone fighter returning to the field, the Wing-Commander shook off his lethargy and began climbing down the tower access ladder. Just as he reached the ground, the Hawker fighter, smoking and missing a huge, bite-like chunk out of one of its wings, bounced badly, then settled and began rolling across the field until came to a stop near the control tower.

Just after the pilot climbed out and jumped to the ground, the Hawker's wing collapsed.

Looking around and seeing the Wing-Commander, the pilot began stumbling forward as the base fire brigade rushed out to deal with what was left of his now smoldering fighter.

"Good God, Man... What happened..."

Sobbing and wide-eyed with shock, the pilot stared blankly for a moment, then pointed back up into the sky. "I... it was a massacre, Sir... right bloody massacre... we never stood a chance..." Suddenly stepping forward, he grabbed Coltishall's Wing Commander by the collar. "Witches... YOU GOTTA' CALL IN SOME WITCHES! THAT THING OUT THERE'S A MONSTER! AND THE ONLY ONE'S WHAT WOULD STAND A CHANCE AGAINST IT IS THEM WITCHES!"

From the far side of the field came the sound of an anti-aircraft gun opening up. Belatedly, the air-raid siren began to sound, and shortly thereafter the rest of the guns stationed around the field opened fire.

As the pilot uttered a choked cry and collapsed into shivering heap at his feet, Coltishall's Wing-Commander looked up just as a huge shadow began crossing the airfield. Instead of the usual swarms of tiny Neuroi attackers, what now filled the sky was a huge, dark-greenish Neuroi that looked like one of the Zeppelin passenger airships created by Karlsländ during the Nineteen-Thirties.

Slowing to a stop, the crystalline hexagons making up Zeppelin Neuroi's three stripes began to increase in brightness.

Realizing what was about to happen, Coltishall's Wing Commander threw himself to the ground next to the quivering pilot. With the suddenness of a flash of lightning, numerous bright red beams reached out to targets all across the airfield. Immediately after came the crack of secondary explosions as those targets, or parts of those targets, disintegrated violently into their basic elements.

Apparently satisfied with what it had done, the Zeppelin Neuroi finished crossing the field and vanished to the west.

Leaving the still sobbing pilot where he was, Coltishall's Wing Commander stood up and stared at the chaos that used to be an RAF airfield. Nearby was what remained of a 40mm Bofors anti-aircraft gun and its crew. The lack of gunfire as the Neuroi departed seemed to indicate the fate of the rest of the guns around the field had been the same... If anti-aircraft guns could be so easily neutralized, then the plans he'd heard being discussed about using such weapons to fight the Neuroi could prove to be just as worthless as the idea of sending regular fighter aircraft to do so...

Turning and seeing that the building holding it was still mostly intact, Coltishall's Wing-Commander rushed off towards the base radio room to report what he's seen...

(-)

(OTU 56. Near Leicester, East Midlands, Britannia.)

"Captain Bader!"

After being in the air since early that morning, Donna had been about to signal for OTU 56 to move towards its rendezvous with Leftenant Howard's platoon down by the Ouse River when Heidemarie Schnaufer's shout over the transceiver killed the command in her throat.

Trying desperately not to let the panic coming over the frequencies she was monitoring creep into her voice, Heidemarie pointed to her antenna's as soon as Hauptmann Bader looked over. "Some kind of Neuroi that hasn't been seen before has crossed the coast and is heading inland! So far it has attacked several airfields and Peterborough. 12 Group sent some fighter squadrons out to intercept it, but..."

Seeing in Heidemarie's wide eyes the explanation for the 'but,' Donna nodded in understanding. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she took a deep breath, then looked left, then right, catching the eyes of each of the witches under her command in turn. "OTU 56. We will move south to intercept and attack the Neuroi now moving across the Midlands." After sixteen nods, a few of them understandably shaky, she turned to look directly at Gertrude Barkhorn. "Leftenant Barkhorn! Just in case there's some reason Schnaufer can't track this Neuroi, I want you to scout out ahead of us with your element. Locate the Neuroi and report back immediately. Understood?"

Chomping at the bit to get directly into a fight, Barkhorn chaffed at Bader's caution, but she also understood the need for it as she snapped off an acknowledgement salute. "Yes Ma'am! Barkhorn element moving out!"

(-)

(RAF Watnall. 12 Group Headquarters.)

Air Officer Commanding Trafford Leigh-Mallory didn't need a board to the back of his head to see the futility of feeding the remaining fighter squadrons of 12 Group into the attack against the massive Neuroi advancing deeper into the Britannian Midlands. Having called off any further effort in that direction, he had placed his hopes on the anti-aircraft batteries massed around the various potential targets. Unfortunately, after the devastation visited upon several of 12 Group's airfields and the city of Peterborough, it was beginning to look as if that would be a forlorn hope as well.

Reinforcement from 11 Group was out of the question, since they were still too heavily engaged. 10 Group was committed to helping 11 Group, and 13 Group in Northern Britannia was too far away... _("Blasted Neuroi! Why did you have to do this NOW? Before we had a chance to develop the countermeasures we're planning?")_

Looking down into the room where the Women's Auxiliaries were working at the plotting table, he cast about for something, anything he could do to try and stop the advancing Neuroi. Except for the small stands displaying information about the units which had been held back from attacking, and the stands for the now presumably destroyed squadrons near the coast and around Peterborough, the only thing on the board was a single stand near the town of Leicester marked 'T-5.' "T-5? What's that?"

Consulting a reference list he held, Leigh-Mallory's operations officer quickly had the answer. "A training squadron, Sir. OTU 56 out of Sutton Bridge."

Despite his long-held belief about such things, Leigh-Mallory felt a sudden flash of hope. _("A witch unit!")_ Hope which was just as suddenly quashed. _("The... they're unarmed...")_ "Get... Get them out of there! Get them down, anywhere is fine!"

Reaching for the phone connection to the radio room, the operations officer moved to carry out his orders.

(-)

(OTU 56. East of Coventry.)

_"OTU 56, Watnall Control. Alter course to the west. Proceed to RAF Tern Hill and land immediately. Acknowledge."_

Expecting to hear from Barkhorn at any moment, Donna started slightly at receiving a direct command from 12 Group control at RAF Fowlmere. "Wa... Watnall Control, OTU 56. Acknowledged." _("Where are you Barkhorn? Another few minutes and I'll be forced to order the squadron to disengage!")_

_"ACHTUNG! NEUROI!"_

Finally hearing Barkhorn call out sent a jolt of adrenaline through Donna's body. Faint grunts and gasps she heard through the transceiver told of the reactions of several other witches in OTU 56 to the realization they were moments away from going into combat against the Neuroi. "Barkhorn! Report!"

_"Massive Neuroi advancing from the direction of Peterborough! It's definitely not like any of the small-types I've ever seen before."_

A burst of static and the roar of striker engines told Donna Barkhorn was evading Neuroi fire. "What about its weapon capabilities?"

_"Heavily armed, but I can already see a weakness in the arrangement of its beam crystals."_

Turning slightly, Donna looked over at Heidemarie. The Karlsländer met the look, saw the unspoken question, and nodded to indicate she was now tracking the target with her magic. "Barkhorn. Maintain contact. We'll circle around to the south, then approach the Neuroi from the east."

_"Understood!"_

(-)

Pursuant to orders, Gertrude Barkhorn kept Vera Mölders close by and concentrated on evading the Neuroi's fire. Even while doing so, she still tried to ferret out where the huge Neuroi's core might be hidden. "Vera, any idea on where the core might be?"

Following Barkhorn into another roll to avoid Enemy fire seemingly designed to just keep them away more than anything else, Vera shook her head. "No Leutnant. If it keeps with what we've seen in the smaller Neuroi though, it should be near the tail."

Nodding, Barkhorn tightened her grip on the Lewis-gun. _("If I just had my MG-34's, I'd go-ahead and risk a run on that bastard!")_

_"Barkhorn element. OTU 56 has you in sight. Pull back and form up with the rest of the squadron."_

_("At last! Now we'll get to fight!")_ "Barkhorn element, understood." Giving Vera a hand signal to initiate the maneuver, Barkhorn pulled into a high loop, then as soon as she spotted the rest of the squadron, dove back down in a more leisurely way to take up her normal position in the formation.

Examining the huge Neuroi as it moved deeper into the Midlands, Donna could see what she believed Barkhorn meant about its vulnerability to attack. "Leftenant Barkhorn! Has it shown any beam crystals other than those along the three stripes?"

Trying to maintain her self-control, Barkhorn shook her head. "No, Hauptmann Bader!"

Looking over in response to Barkhorn's clipped words, Donna could see the Karlsländ girl was having to fight her own desire to just attack without regard of any possible consequences. "Leftenant Barkhorn!"

Startled out of her wild thoughts about gaining revenge for what had happened to her younger sister by the sudden shout, Barkhorn turned towards Donna. "Ye... Yes Ma'am! What are your orders, Ma'am?"

Knowing Barkhorn might not like what she was going to say, but also knowing she needed to do something to calm the experienced Karlsländer down before using her in a direct attack, Donna pointed at the huge Neuroi. "Take your two flights and attack from the front quarter. After you draw its fire in that direction, I'll lead the other flights in from directly to the rear. If we can't find the core, we'll try to draw the Neuroi's fire as we break away. If we succeed, then you should attack at once, understood?"

Discipline warred with the desire for revenge in Barkhorn's mind. The look of concern in Donna's eyes though, along with the logic of her orders, gave discipline the edge in the end. "Understood, Hauptmann Bader!"

A few hand signals to her sister witches, and Barkhorn was gone. Turning to Perrine and the Gallians, Donna caught their eyes before pointing at the Neuroi. "I'll lead off, and we'll attack in single-file directly towards the tail. Clostermann. When we get close, you lead your flight along the upper right side. Le Gloan, you go along the upper left. I'll go straight down the belly. Stay as close as possible to its side to avoid the fire angle of the beam crystals. Start firing as soon as you cross over the tail. If you don't locate the core-crystal, then break off back towards the rear before you reach the half-way point to the nose. Spread out as soon as you have room to maneuver. That should hopefully draw the Neuroi's fire and give Barkhorn the chance to attack. Any questions?"

Though a few gulped, trying to wet dry throats, all the witches facing Donna shook their heads.

_("Nothing left then but to do this!")_ Ignoring a sudden twinge of phantom pain in her leg stumps, Donna turned towards the Neuroi. "Tally-ho! Enemy in sight! OTU 56... FOLLOW ME!"

(-)

(RAF Watnall. 12 Group Headquarters.)

"What? Do you have confirmation of that? Very well then."

Hearing the odd conversation, Leigh-Mallory looked towards his operations officer. "What's going on?"

Feeling unsure about the report, considering the 'T-5' designator down on the plotting map, the operations officer shook his head. "Sir. The radio room has monitored a transmission from OTU 56 saying they are attacking the Neuroi approaching Coventry. Ground spotters are also reporting that a witch unit is attacking the Neuroi. The report has been repeated by several different spotters, so it is confirmed, but the only such unit in the area is OTU 56..."

Looking down at the plotting table, Leigh-Mallory was momentarily at a loss. Bader wasn't insane enough to just throw her unit at the Neuroi, so that had to mean she'd managed to arm them somehow. The idea that she and OTU 56 might somehow defeat the Neuroi was a welcome one. However, what really caused a slight grin to appear on his face was the thought that such a blatant case of insubordination would finally give him the excuse he needed to declare Bader unfit to command. Depending on the exact circumstances, he might even be able to declare the Joint Fighter Wing concept itself a failure.

(-)

(OTU 56. Nearing the Midlands city of Coventry.)

Several of her witches seemed shaken by what they'd just done, but thankfully for Donna, everyone showed up again after their attack against the Neuroi. "Did anyone see any sign of that thing's core-crystal?" Sixteen negative indications were an unwelcome response to the question. Despite everyone emptying their weapons into the massive Neuroi, they were no better off, for all the shattered pieces of the enemy now fluttering towards the ground, than they'd been before.

Waving a hand, Barkhorn drew Captain Bader's attention away from the Neuroi and towards herself. "From everything we witnessed during the Battle of Karlsländ, as well as what's been in the reports from Suomus and Orussia indicate the core-crystal is usually near the tail, but that's with the normal small Neuroi..."

Barkhorn may have been stating the obvious, but in the absence of any other clues, Donna knew it was best to stay with that for now. "Okay then; we'll try something a bit different. With Barkhorn's Lewis we have five elements with heavy weapons. Clostermann, Le Gloan, Schröer and Henkel will attack along the upper surfaces, while Barkhorn's element attacks along the belly. All of you concentrate your fire as much as possible in the tail area of the Neuroi. I'll lead the three purely Thompson-armed elements out in front to draw fire."

As one, the sixteen witches of OTU 56 nodded in response to their leader's instructions.

Seeing no reason to say anything more, Donna broke away from the gathered witches, followed by four Gallians and two Karlsländers. As she raced to get ahead of the Zeppelin Neuroi, the spires of Saint Michael's Cathedral in Coventry became visible in the distance. Unless something happened that changed things, it seemed obvious that city was the Neuroi's next target...

Far behind OTU 56's leader, Gertrude Barkhorn raised a fist when the Zeppelin Neuroi's beam crystals began to glow. When it fired and started sending its beams after the witches in its forward quarter, she brought the fist down sharply. "ATTACK!"

Following in the Karlsländer's wake, the nine witches with Barkhorn raced in against their target. Reaching the Neuroi's tail, they split apart and all immediately opened fire.

Heavy .45 caliber slugs from the wing-witch's Thompsons began shattering the surface structure of the Neuroi, while the higher-velocity .303 rounds from the Lewis-gun and Bren's of the element leads added to the carnage and bit deeper into the target.

Snapping her legs forward as soon as she was in the dead-zone between two lower rows of beam crystals, Barkhorn brought herself nearly to a stop before opening fire with the Lewis-gun. Expended brass cartridges poured from the ejection port of the gun, adding themselves to the hundreds already scattered across the Britannian countryside. Just as she was about to break away once more, part of the Neuroi shattered, and its core crystal was exposed. Shifting her aim, she pulled the trigger once more, but the Lewis-gun's bolt snapped shut on an empty chamber.

Pulling away from the Neuroi, Perrine Clostermann heard someone shouting curses in Karlsländer, but didn't have time to wonder who it was as a bright-blue flash and sound of shattering glass drew her attention elsewhere.

"Paulette! NO!"

Trailing smoke and spiraling down towards the ground was a Gallian's Hurricane Striker, with another witch in desperate pursuit. As Perrine watched, the other witch, Pierrette Le Gloan by her striker's markings, managed to pull Paulette Mendès out of her death dive. Unfortunately, a stand of trees was in her flight path as she leveled out. Pierrette's shield activated in time, but shattered as she crashed through the branches. Understandably shaken by what had happened, she began moving erratically away from the battle with the unconscious Paulette still held in her arms.

"Clostermann! Report!"

Turning as the rest of the OTU 56 witches began to gather once more, Perrine waited for Captain Bader to come closer before pointing after Pauline and Paulette. "Le Gloan's element is out of action Captain. Mendès must have pulled out too far when she broke away, and the Neuroi probably caught her with its beams. Le Gloan went in to save her from crashing, but nearly crashed herself. The two of them are retreating."

"Captain Bader! I saw the core-crystal!"

Working to change the drum-magazine for her Lewis-gun as she did so, Barkhorn came up with her wing-witch to become the last two to join the rendezvous.

After a quick glance towards the Neuroi, still seemingly more interested in reaching Coventry than in disrupting its attackers, Donna turned back to face Barkhorn. "Where at?"

Finally managing to snap her last drum-magazine into place, Barkhorn pointed towards the Neuroi. "About a third of the way forward along the belly!"

Quickly running through her options, Donna nodded unconsciously several times before looking up at her witches. "Okay then, I'm going to break up the elements. Barkhorn. You, Clostermann, Schröer and Henkel will go in as the main attack unit. Your wing-witches will support by attacking along the upper surfaces as before, and I'll lead the forward quarter attack again. Any questions?"

Around Donna, all the other witches nodded with determination.

Tightening the grip she held on her Thompson, Donna turned towards the Neuroi once again. "Let's get this thing before it reaches Coventry!"

(-)

(Outside Saint Michael's Cathedral. Coventry, Britannia.)

As much as he wanted to collect the item he'd come to Coventry for, Niels Bohr still retained the memories of the destruction caused by the Neuroi he'd witnessed in Danemark before evacuating that now occupied country. Using a pair of binoculars, he watched the unexpectedly present unit of witches go in to attack for the third time. Though their success might mean the failure of his mission, he found himself letting base thoughts of revenge into his normally logical mind. _("Get that Neuroi bastard girls... blast it to Kingdom Come...")_

(-)

"RIGHT THERE! CONCENTRATE YOUR FIRE RIGHT THERE!"

Pulling in close, Perrine added the weight of fire from her Bren to that of Barkhorn's Lewis and the Bren's of the two other Karlsländers. With so many magically boosted bullets tearing away at the Zeppelin Neuroi's surface, the core was quickly exposed. The three Bren-guns all ran empty at that instant, and despite Barkhorn's continuing efforts, the core-crystal was quickly covered again.

_("Thumb-back the magazine catch. Lift the magazine up and forward to release it from the breech. Take the new magazine and attach the forward end in the catch at the front of the breech, then snap it back and down firmly to secure it in place. Pull back the charging handle, and you're ready to go.")_

With a calmness belying the desperation she felt, Perrine heard the gruff voice of her Britannian weapons instructor calmly repeating the steps necessary to exchange the magazine on the Bren-gun. Just as she opened fire once more, the two Karlsländ Bren users did the same. Shouting at the top of her lungs without hearing it, she concentrated on the location of the core crystal once more. Just as the Bren ran dry again, she was rewarded with the unnatural ringing sound of a Neuroi's core-crystal shattering.

In the middle of changing the magazine on her Thompson, Donna saw the Zeppelin Neuroi disintegrate and felt a huge rush of elation. That elation was just as quickly replaced by fear when something began moving within the expanding mass of white crystals. As what the Zeppelin Neuroi had been carrying was revealed, the entire point of the huge attack down in 11 Group became perfectly clear. _("Hi... HIVE-CORE!")_ "Fowlmere Control! OTU 56. Sea Lion! Sea Lion! Sea Lion! Neuroi Hive-core at Coventry! I repeat! Neuroi Hive-core at..."

A flash of red, followed by the sound of her shield shattering, and Donna Bader knew nothing more...

(-)

(RAF Watnall. 12 Group Headquarters.)

Air Officer commanding Trafford Leigh-Mallory could only stare in shock as his operations officer repeated the last transmission from Captain Bader. Sea Lion... the code word for someone spotting a Neuroi Hive-core inside Britannia, and an all-call for every witch in range to converge and attack immediately... only, there weren't any other witches in range, and the lack of any further word from OTU 56 meant the unit had probably just been wiped out... "We... we're doomed..."

(-)

(RAF Uxbridge. 11 Group Headquarters.)

"Who transmitted that Sea Lion call? What unit? Where is it?"

Picking up his phone and speaking rapidly to the crew in the radio room, 11 Group's operations office quickly had the answer. "Captain Donna Bader. Commander of OTU 56 up in 12 Group's area."

Casting about down on the plotting table for anything he could send north, Keith Park's eyes focused on the information stands clustered at RAF Hornchurch. Survivors from several hard-hit witch squadrons had been gathered there, and were being integrated into Adolfina Galland's JG 26 to form a small, but precious reserve of witches for 11 Group. "Tell Galland to take JG 26 north immediately! Everyone else is to do whatever it takes to keep the Neuroi still in 11 Group's area from interfering with the movement of JG 26!"

Nodding to acknowledge the order, Keith Park's operations officer turned back to his phone to carry out his instructions.

(-)

(OTU 56. On the ground outside Coventry.)

A flash of red, the shattering glass sound of a failing shield, and the agonizing pain and shock of losing yet another limb...

_...ader... ..apt... ...er..._

"Captain Bader!"

Sudden awareness brought Donna Bader back to a world she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to be in, screaming in pain, she started thrashing against whatever was holding her down until something crashed sharply across the side of her face. The impact focused her mind, and she looked up the see the bruised and battered faces of Gertrude Barkhorn, Perrine Clostermann, and a swollen-faced, but still recognizable Roberta Johnson. "Wha... what happened...?"

Seeing Donna trying to turn towards her severed left arm, Perrine reached out to keep that from happening. "You've been wounded. We're taking care of it."

Focusing for a moment on how badly burned Roberta Johnson seemed to be, then looking around and not seeing many more of OTU 56's witches, Donna wondered what had happened to everyone else... "My girls... what about the rest of my girl's...?"

Trying not to be ill over what she'd witnessed after the Neuroi hive-core revealed itself, Barkhorn forced a smile as Perrine continued working to keep Bader from losing any more blood than she already had. "Don't worry about that right now Hauptmann, you worry about staying alive, and we'll take care of everything else."

Staring without blinking for several seconds, Donna fought to bring order to her thoughts before turning to face Gertrude Barkhorn. "You've got to destroy that thing, Leftenant Barkhorn, any way you can. It's a Hive-core. The Nueroi have never tried to do this before, but if it manages to get established, then we're going to lose Britannia..."

Looking up and around at the few witches of OTU 56 still capable of fighting, Barkhorn wondered how they could possibly do so. Everyone had been wounded to some extent, very few of them had weapons that still functioned, and there was little enough ammunition left to fire for those who did... Having witnessed what happened in Karlsländ though... she knew they had to try... "Understood, Hauptmann Bader!"

Though she was in serious pain due to the burns caused by a Neuroi beam nearly penetrating her magic shield, Roberta moved to remount her own striker as Barkhorn ran towards where her Messerscharf rested against a tree. "Got any ideas Gerty?"

Mind racing as she tried to come up with an idea, Barkhorn turned sharply on Roberta in response to the Liberion's shortening of her first name. "I don't know! Anyway, you Yankee's are known for your ingenuity, why don't you come up with some kind of an idea about what we should do!"

As Barkhorn's striker activated, Roberta floated over to where she could see the Neuroi Hive-core hovering over Saint Michael's Cathedral. "Well, right now, it just looks like a crazy-big, regular core-crystal, so maybe..."

Her Lewis having been smashed, Barkhorn was willing to entertain ANY idea that might offer some chance for success. "What?"

Worried didn't begin to describe how Roberta felt Barkhorn might react to her idea. "Well, that thing is so big, maybe we need to use a cannon against it somehow..."

Eyes wide, Barkhorn gave Roberta a look that said she thought the Liberion had lost her mind. "A cannon? Where would we get a... cannon..."

Momentarily confused, Roberta turned towards whatever it was that had caused Barkhorn's odd reaction. On the far side of a nearby road, in a field similar to the one the survivors of OTU 56 had landed in, smoke was rising from what seemed to be some kind of heavy gun battery...

(-)

As he helped tend to the wounded survivors from his battery of 3.7-inch anti-aircraft guns, the last thing Captain Lowell Simpson expected to witness was the arrival of a half-dozen striker equipped witches. The six girls floated around examining what was left of the mostly slagged guns for a moment, then gathered around one which had simply fallen over after having its base mounting destroyed. When they started trying to clear away the wreckage surrounding the gun, he stood up and began walking over. "Hey now! What do you think you're doing there? That thing is still dangerous you know!"

Clearly in a terribly foul mood, a brown-haired, dog-eared witch wearing a Messerscharf Striker looked up, then floated over.

"Does that gun still work?"

Beside himself with disbelief, Simpson shook his head. "Of course not! It's been knocked from its mounting! How could it possibly still work?"

Not wanting to waste any time, Barkhorn floated closer and grabbed the Britannian officer by his collar. "We need something powerful enough to destroy that Neuroi Hive-core! There isn't any time to lose, so if this gun doesn't work, we need to go find one that does!"

Anyone who would even think about carrying the unbelievably heavy main barrel assembly of a 3.7-inch anti-aircraft gun into the sky was nuts as far as Simpson was concerned, but the one proposing such was a witch... so maybe... "Yes. It works. IF you can get it off the ground. It can even be fired by a lanyard, if we set it up to do so."

Showing obvious impatience, Barkhorn pointed back towards the gun. "Then give us a hand here!"

Thoughts about 'Mad-dogs and Britannians' came unbidden to his mind, and Simpson realized by the Karlsländer's words and look that Britannia clearly didn't have a monopoly in that respect. Still, if the Neuroi hovering over Saint Michael's really was a Hive-core, then every effort, even unto death, had to be made to destroy it. Pulling the witch's hands from his shirt, he turned back towards the survivors of his anti-aircraft battery. "MEN! These ladies say they can use this gun to destroy that Neuroi! Who's with me for helping them out!"

Battered, bruised, or bleeding, every Britannian soldier who could still move pulled himself up in response to their Captain's words. Grabbing pry-bars, shovels, and sledge-hammers, or even just using their bare hands, they came over and started working to set the damaged 3.7-inch anti-aircraft gun upright enough so it could be loaded, and prepared for the witches to use.

(-)

_In order to become securely establish in its chosen location, a new Neuroi Hive-core needed to rest undisturbed for a short period of time._

_The opportunity to do so had been created by concentrating such an overwhelming force in the south of Britannia that anything which might resist the new Hive-core's establishment would inevitably be drawn there instead._

_The appearance of a lone force with the ability to threaten the Hive-core was unexpected, but it and the other puny threats around the location chosen for its establishment were easily dealt with._

_After only a minor delay, the correct period of time had passed. Beginning below the Hive-core and quickly working its way skyward, a hexiform protective barrier began to form._

_Nothing else even remotely threatening was close enough to prevent the completion of the barrier. The cloaking layer of clouds around the Hive-core would form shortly afterwards._

_At that point, the Hive-core would begin to send out the miasma which would silence or drive away all the annoying vermin currently scurrying about on the land below._

(-)

Straddling the breach-assembly of the 3.7-inch gun, Gertrude Barkhorn wound the firing lanyard around her left hand, then grabbed hold of the lifting straps one of the Britannian gunners had wrapped around the anti-aircraft gun's breech assembly. Using her strength magic, she would carry the heaviest part of the gun. Perrine, Roberta, and everyone else would help lift and provide stability. Doing what they were attempting might burn out every one of their striker engines, but considering the consequences of failure, they didn't really have any choice "Okay then; all together now!"

Despite the magic propellers on their strikers revving until they were screaming like banshees, Captain Simpson quickly realized the six girls still might not be able to lift off. Without hesitation, he ran forward and added his small strength to the task. _("If they can just get off the ground and start moving...")_

Barkhorn felt the slight change as she continued straining with effort. Several other men soon rushed forward, squeezing in wherever they could while still avoiding the props of the six strikers, and slowly, the gun began to rise. Finally, the gathered Britannian soldiers gave a coordinated heave, and she and the other witches were able to take the load. They continued to gain altitude at a steady pace, all the while carefully turning and heading towards their target as they did so.

(-)

(RAF Watnall. 12 Group Headquarters.)

Lifting his head from where it rested hopelessly in his hands, Leigh-Mallory looked up as the phone next to his operations officer rang. Down below, one of the Women's Auxiliaries was reaching out with the stick she used to adjust the position of the squadron ID stands on the plotting table. Touching the 'T-5' stand, she moved it from where it had been resting outside Coventry until it was on top of the city itself.

Setting the phone down, the operations officer, a look of desperate hope on his face, turned towards Leigh-Mallory. "Sir. It seems at least a few of OTU 56's witches have survived. What the ground spotters near Coventry are reporting is a bit confusing, but all of them are adamant about witches still being present over the city."

Turning from the operations officer, Leigh-Mallory looked down at the plotting table and the lone squadron stand over Coventry. Even if he wanted Bader and her witches to win, it still didn't change the fact he hated that Britannia had to rely on such limited means for victory against ANY enemy... _("I swear, if we survive this crisis, that I'll change that dependence if it's the last thing I do!")_

(-)

(OTU 56. Over Saint Michael's Cathedral, Coventry, Britannia.)

As the paint on her striker began to blister and drip off, Perrine Clostermann wondered how soon the unit's magic engine would begin to tear itself apart from the strain of what it was being asked to do. "Why... why hasn't the Neuroi fired... at... us..."

Pushing her own striker to the limit in the effort to get the gun they were carrying closer to its target, Barkhorn shook her head. "Who... who cares... as long as it holds off... a little bit... longer..."

Out near the tip of the gun's barrel, Amelie Planchard could feel hot tears streaming down her face. For all that she'd done over the last hour or so she was still barely twelve years old, and very much afraid of dying. Knowing what they were doing was necessary didn't make the idea any easier to take... If not for what Perrine Clostermann, the other girls, or her parents might think, she feared she would have already run away...

Looking to her right, Amelie suddenly realized the Karlsländ girl at her side, Heidemarie Schnaufer, was also crying. The silver-haired Night-Witch looked up at her, and what she saw told Amelie she wasn't alone in her fears.

Down below, Barkhorn could see the protective shield surrounding the Hive-core rapidly nearing completion. They weren't as high as she might have wanted, or perhaps as perfectly positioned, but if they didn't attack immediately, it might become too late to do so... "Ev... everyone! When I give the signal... let go!"

Five desperate witches nodded in response to Barkhorn's words.

After making sure the firing lanyard was still tightly wrapped around her hand, Barkhorn gave a single nod. "Ready then... One... Two... THREE!"

Just as she let go, Perrine realized Barkhorn had never said how they were going to set the gun off. As the dog-eared Karlsländer continued to lift, forcing the barrel to point straight down even as it began to fall, she realized with horrified certainty what was about to happen. "Leiu.. Lieutenant Barkhorn!"

Someone needed to keep the gun steady as it fell, and Barkhorn had no desire to ask anyone else to make such a death-ride. As the Neuroi's protective shield neared completion, the gun's barrel slammed into the opening that remained, lodging there and disrupting the formation of the last hexiform panel. Though her magic provided protection against the impact, as she expected it to, there was no guarantee of anything further. "Chris... Please forgive me..."

Using all the magic she had left, Leutnant Gertrude Barkhorn of the Karlsländ Luftstreitkräfte reinforced the shell loaded inside the 3.7-inch gun, then closed her eyes and jerked the firing lanyard...

tsuzuku.

(-)

**Author's Notes:**

**"Pulled lead:' Another way of expressing 'made a high-angle deflection shot' as mentioned in the chapter two author's notes.**

**Lieutenant Roberta Johnson: Roberta is based on the World War II P-47 Thunderbolt pilot and 27-kill ace Robert S. Johnson. Further information about Robert S. Johnson can be found on Wikipedia, and in his autobiographical memoir, 'Thunderbolt!'**

**Robert S. Johnson's most famous dogfight, computer animated in the episode 'Thunderbolt!' of season 2 of the History Channel series 'Dogfights,' began with him actually being 'shot down.' Though his P-47 was on fire and spinning out of control after being attacked, Johnson managed to recover from the spin after the fire went out. Unable to bail out of the aircraft do to damage from the attack, he had no choice but to try to return to England. Along the way he was spotted and attacked by the German ace. Egon Mayer. (Portrayed by Ernsta Mayer in this story.) Mayer had no more cannon ammunition in his Fw-190, but still proceeded to empty every last round of regular machine-gun ammunition his fighter had into Johnson's P-47. Due to the toughness of the P-47, as well as Mayer's failure to hit anything vital, Johnson eventually escaped when Mayer ran out of ammunition. Once back on the ground in England, Johnson tried to count the bullet holes in his fighter, but stopped when he reached two-hundred.**

**Roberta Johnson uses a P-40 Curts Warhawk Striker in 'Where From the Warlock?' because at this point in time, (1940,) the P-47 Reps Thunderbolt Striker hasn't been put into production yet.**

**(Actually; I can't believe I managed to make it to chapter four without putting an entry about Roberta Johnson in an earlier chapter...)**

**A note about how I've done ranks: Leutnant, (Karlsländ,) Leftenant, (Britannia,) Tenente, (Romagna,) and Lieutenant, (Liberion, Gallia, and Fuso when not using Chu-i,) are all equivalent. Captain and Hauptmann are equivalent. Characters use/think the different ranks based on their nationality, how they are thinking at the moment, and their current stress-levels. (Barkhorn might call Bader 'Captain Bader' in a calm barracks setting, but could revert to 'Hauptmann,' the normal rank-title she is used to using, while under stress.)**

**Colonel Crittendon's niece Cecilia is Leftenant Cecilia Miles, (eventually 'Major' Miles,) currently a Hard-skin land witch in North Africa.**

**All the airfields, command centers, and radar sites mentioned in 'Where From the Warlock' are actual locations in use during the real-world Battle of Britain.**

**Zuidland: Zuid-Holland (South Holland) is a province in located in the south-western corner of the real-world country of Holland/The Netherlands. Needing such, I choose 'Zuidland' to represent Holland/The Netherlands within the world of 'Strike Witches.'**

**Danemark: (Denmark.) Simply a name variation I choose to represent Denmark within the world of 'Strike Witches.' Citizens of Denmark are 'Danes/Danish,' so 'Dane plus Denmark gives Danemark.'**

**Should anyone be interested in such, here are Adolfina Galland's 'native' words:**

**"Also schön! Die Neuroi bist kommend über in selten gehoben Quoten noch heute. Was irgend die Bedeutung über ihre tuend so ist, unserer Betriebszeit zu Karlsländ ist abdecken... Erschlagen Sie alle. Bestand KEIN ausführen." **

**"Alle Neuroi vernichtete bringt uns man trittst Türschließer zu umsonst Karlsländ. Zugleich, die Rückgang von einmal ein ledig Hexe ist wahrscheinlich ein Netz erringen fürs Neuroi. Somit; sich erinnern ihrer Training. Verkleben mit ihrer Kotflügel-Hexe. Mitarbeiten untereinander, und wiedererkennen lebendig."**

**Captain Lowell Simpson eventually transfers to North Africa, and is prominent in the story told in the doujinshi 'Witch in Africa.' (Also staring Major Miles, C Company, Fourth Armored Brigade, of the Britannian Royal Army, and Hanna-Justina Marseille of the Karlsländ Luftstreitkräfte.)**


	5. Chapter 5

Strike Witches exists as Light Novels, Manga, anime and as several non-adult, semi-official doujinshi in Japan. It is owned by Kadokawa Shoten, Gonzo, other entities and its various creators in Japan, and by Funimation (as an anime only,) in the United States, NOT by me.

Beyond how I establish the origins of several characters and a slight name-change, this story is not meant to be an AU.

As it relates to everything else, "Woher, die Zauberer?" takes place during 'The Battle of Britannia' in 1940, concurrent with the 'Suomus Misfits Squadron' series of Light-Novels, and three to four years before the time of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing.

(-)

"Woher, die Zauberer?" ("Where from, the Warlock?")

Chapter Five.

(-)

With the manual firing mechanism having been tripped, the propellant charge loaded in the 3.7-inch anti-aircraft gun now lodged in the Coventry Hive-core's protective shield detonated.

After traveling down the rifled barrel encasing it, the twenty-eight pound shell exited the gun at a speed of nearly three-thousand feet per second. At the same time, recoil forces and the expanding cloud of propellant gasses launched the gun back out of the Hive-core's shield.

As the last hexiform panel solidified, the magically reinforced shell struck and penetrated a short distance inside it's target's crystalline structure. In nearly the same instant, the shell's bursting charge detonated, sending shards of white-hot shrapnel flying off in every direction.

Before the Hive-core could react in any way, the shock-wave from the anti-aircraft gun's muzzle-blast smashed into the area already damaged by the exploding shell.

With all its energy reserves committed to establishing protective measures, the Hive-core had been severely damaged at its moment of greatest vulnerability. With nothing available to resist the effects of the unexpected attack, the cracks caused by the exploding shell were able to expand at an exponentially increasing rate until the point of no-return for structural integrity was reached.

With a ringing noise heard everywhere in Coventry and far into the surrounding area, the Hive-core and its protective shield shattered. No longer held aloft, the quickly dispersing mass fell to earth, collapsing the roof of Saint Michael's Cathedral and crushing nearly everything inside.

Though inherent toughness and the minimal magical defenses built into most strikers prevented her immediate death, Gertrude Barkhorn was still knocked unconscious by the concussion and recoil of the anti-aircraft gun firing. Thrown into the sky above the dispersing Hive-core, she entered what would have been an ultimately fatal, arcing path towards the ground...

...If not for her being successfully chased down and carefully caught by her squadron mate, Perrine Clostermann.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Perrine gave a silent prayer of thanks for Barkhorn's survival. As the magic engine of her Hurricane striker began backfiring and threatening to quit at any moment, she turned and flew down towards where the other survivors of OTU 56 were landing outside the heavily damaged Saint Michael's Cathedral.

(-)

(Late afternoon. September 15th, 1940. Outside Coventry, Britannia.)

Following the path the Neuroi had taken to Coventry was almost like tracing the path of an arrow for Gruppenkommandeur Adolfina Galland. Anything that could have been a potential threat between the coast and the Midlands city of Coventry itself showed the unmistakable signs of being mercilessly raked by Neuroi beams. East of the city JG 26 had encountered a pair of wounded Gallian witches down in a sheep pasture. Unfortunately, all the one conscious witch was able to do was provide the identity of her unit; OTU 56, operating out of an RAF airfield at Sutton Bridge.

As she lead JG 26 further west, Galland could only shake her head. She knew some of the witches assigned to OTU 56 were experienced, but it was still basically just a training unit... _("Mein Gott... having to go up against a Hive-core all alone... the rest of them are probably all dead by now...")_

Near the outskirts of Coventry was an elongated area where the falling crystalline mass of some kind of destroyed Neuroi had crushed everything flat before the remains had completely dissolved.

Much to Galland's surprise, she saw several more badly wounded witches on the ground near an intersection of two country lanes, all being tended to by what seemed to be Britannian Army medics.

Further along was additional evidence of Neuroi beams having been used against Coventry's defenses, and beyond that, near the center of Coventry and at the 'impact point' of the arrow, was the crushed remains of Saint Michael's Cathedral.

Swarming around and through the cathedral's wreckage were dozens of Britannian soldiers, as well as what seemed to be citizens of the city itself.

As she began circling Saint Michael's in preparation for landing, Galland noticed the most bizarre thing; like some kind of strange garland, the main barrel assembly of an anti-aircraft gun was lodged in the remains of the cathedral's main spire... _("What in the world...?")_

As a high ranking Karlsländ witch came in to land, Perrine Clostermann summoned what little energy she had left and stood up. The only other person who seemed to have the strength to try was Heidemarie Schnaufer, but she held out her hand and signaled the weary witch to stay put.

Settling in to land near a pile of completely burnt-out Strikers from three different nationalities, Galland noticed the young Night Witch she'd sent away to a supposedly 'safe' training unit. That Heidemarie Schnaufer seemed unharmed didn't lessen the guilt she felt over her role in placing the silver-haired girl... no, after such a battle, the 'young woman,' in harms-way.

Next to Heidemarie was a blonde Gallian wearing a torn, stained uniform and cracked glasses who seemed on the verge of collapse. Around the two witches were several others, so unmoving as they lay on borrowed military stretchers it was hard to tell if they were even alive. Shaking her head in amazement, Galland turned to face the young Gallian. "Are you in charge here, Flight-sergeant?"

Slowed by her fatigue, Perrine looked around, then turned to face the Karlsländ witch once more. "If... if being the only one who can stand up means I'm in charge, then I guess so..."

Sensing her wing-witch was a bit offended by such a lax answer, Galland held out her hand to still any complaints. "What happened here? Has the Hive-core been destroyed?"

Wavering slightly, Perrine turned to point at a deathly-still, brown haired witch lying next to Heidemarie. "Yes Ma'am. Lieutenant Barkhorn managed to do so..."

Knowing about Gertrude Barkhorn's reputation as the 'Grünschnabel,' Galland had to wonder about the Gallian witch's claim. "How?"

Suddenly too dizzy to stand, Perrine collapsed to the ground. Somehow managing to remain sitting up, she raised her arm and pointed without speaking at the spire of Saint Michael's.

After looking at the gun lodged in the spire once more, all Galland could do was shake her head in disbelief... "Uxbridge Control, Watnall Control, JG 26. Neuroi Hive-core destruction confirmed. OTU 56 has survivors, but is completely combat ineffective. JG 26 will assume responsibility for patrolling Coventry and the surrounding area."

(-)

(RAF Watnall. 12 Group Headquarters.)

Down around the plotting table, the Women's Auxiliaries and their male supervisors broke out in joyous shouting and cheers when the report came in from JG 26. As resentful as he felt about HOW the Hive-core had been defeated, Leigh-Mallory realized it would be for the best to let everyone continue celebrating. As it was, he needed to figure out how to keep any inquiries about why OTU-56 hadn't been fully activated as brief as possible, lest some overly curious investigator uncover the non-governmental secret project he was supporting to develop new ways to fight the Neuroi without using witches.

Preceded by a soft knock, Air Commodore Malloney entered the small room 12 Group's commander used to observe the plotting table. Carrying a single sheet of paper, he walked over to Leigh-Mallory's Operations Officer and held the page out.

Taking the offered paper, the man examined it for a moment before turning to Leigh-Mallory. "Sir? This is an unsigned order authorizing the activation of OTU-56 as a combat squadron. I presume then you meant to sign it, but were distracted by the attack?"

After sending a quick look of thanks towards Malloney, Leigh-Mallory nodded. "Yes. I dictated the order this morning and was having it typed out when the attack alert came. Dreadfully bad timing that; If I'd changed my mind last night, then perhaps Captain Bader and her witches could have been properly armed, instead of having to fight with whatever weapons she managed to scrape up."

Realizing he didn't have a pen, Leigh-Mallory simply held out his hand to the Operations Officer. The man handed him a pen and the OTU-56 squadron activation order, which he proceeded to sign. "Not that it will mean much to those poor devils in OTU-56, but at least I can give them cover for taking the initiative to arm themselves in the face of what they knew to be their standing orders."

Finishing, Leigh-Mallory handed the pen and the page back to his Operations Officer, who in turn gave it to Malloney. "Send this to RAF Sutton Bridge by courier right away."

Nodding, Malloney took the paper and saluted, then stopped just as he began to turn away. "Sir, there is one other thing..."

Curious and anxious, Leigh-Mallory looked up at Malloney. "Yes?"

Seemingly disinterested, Malloney made a slight gesture pointing down towards the plotting table. "Doctor Bohr, that scientist they sent up from London? He phoned from Coventry and said he and his team were okay. They were nearly killed by the falling remains of the Neuroi Hive Core, but managed to take shelter in Saint Michael's Lady's Chapel. He also reported he was able to conduct all the experiments they had been sent to Coventry to do, should the Neuroi attack as was predicted."

Elated didn't begin to describe how Leigh-Mallory felt about Maloney's report. "Wonderful! If the good doctor and his team had been killed, I would have lost considerable sleep trying to explain to the Prime Minister and the ambassador from Danemark why I let that happen!"

Malloney saluted once more and departed.

Turning back to look down into the plotting room, Leigh-Mallory assumed a posture his Operations Officer took to be one of prayer. Focusing on the information stand for OTU-56, he smiled behind his hands. _("How ironic; a witch unit fighting and winning the battle which will lead to their kind being made obsolete!")_

(-)

(Evening. September 15th. Mid-Atlantic. USS Enterprise.)

Having listened, along with many others on the ship, to the reports of the heavy fighting going on over Southern Britannia all day, followed by panicked reports of something happening in the Midlands, and then relative silence, Admiral William 'Uncle Bill' Halsey lit a cigarette and sat down in his cabin. If everything was okay, then Edward R. Murrow would surely have something to say about the matter in his regular broadcast.

Preceded by a bit of static, the broadcaster's calm voice soon came through over the radio.

_"Edward R. Murrow speaking, and This; Is London._

_Today, as the saying from Karlsländ goes, seems to have been 'Der Tag.'_

_In seemingly overwhelming numbers, the otherworldly Neuroi swarmed across the Britannian Channel today in an apparent attempt to crush this island nation once and for all._

_Despite the undeniably tremendous exertions of their enemy, Britannia's defenders rose to the challenge once again._

_On any other day of battle, a few dozen Neuroi might be destroyed._

_On this 'Day of Days,' not just a few dozen, but HUNDREDS of Neuroi were felled._

_As might be expected, a price had to be paid for victory in this unprecedented battle. Still, not once did those who hold Britannia's fate in their charge flinch or flag._

_Unfortunately, the Neuroi were waiting for just the right moment to play an extremely potent trump-card._

_By sacrificing hundreds of their attackers, the Neuroi thinned out Britannia's defenders to the point they were able to try something which they have never done before; establish a new Hive before fully conquering a territory._

_Had the Neuroi succeeded in this attempt, all the sacrifices being made by Britannia's defenders would have proven vain._

_Fortunately for Britannia, and perhaps even for humanity itself, the opportunity to deny the Neuroi their victory was close at hand._

_A recently activated squadron of witches, still really no more than a training unit, was patrolling the Midlands near Coventry. They recognized the Neuroi threat for what it was, and unhesitatingly moved to eliminate it._

_At this moment; no firm details about exactly what occurred have been released, nor have any details about what casualties the involved unit of witches might have suffered._

_I can say with confidence though that the new squadron did overcome the challenge they faced._

_In succeeding days, I will let you know further information as it becomes available._

_For now though;_

_This is Edward R. Murrow. Good night, and good luck."_

After crushing out his cigarette, Halsey stood. _(My God... a brand new squadron... probably just through with their training...")_ Donning a cap and leather jacket, he left his quarters and climbed up through USS Enterprise's island to the Flag Bridge.

Settling against the railing of the starboard bridge wing, he stood there for a while, watching in silence as the waves rolled by. _("Still; if humanity continues to produce such heroines, then I have no doubts about who will eventually win this war.")_

Hearing the sound of Striker engines revving up, Halsey crossed to the port-side bridge wing.

Down below on the flight deck, Enterprise's two night witches were preparing for their patrol.

Looking to the bridge, they received and returned their 'Uncle Bill's' salute, then at the launch officer's signal, they were off.

(-)

(October 10th, 1940. RAF Sutton Bridge.)

To the accompaniment of a small band playing La Marseillaise, General Charles de Gaulle pinned a Croix de Guerre on the chest of the last Gallian witch standing before the assembled personnel of RAF Sutton Bridge. The General then kissed Perrine Clostermann on both cheeks, took her hand and spoke briefly, then turned and walked towards his waiting car with all the dignity befitting the leader of Free Gallia.

As soon as General de Gaulle departed, the commander of Sutton Bridge spoke briefly, then dismissed the assembly.

Giving the required salute, Donna Bader waited until the base commander left the small platform he was on, then lowered her arm, turned, and began to walk away. Earlier in the week, all of the surviving Karlsländ witches had received the Iron Cross Second Class, with Gertrude Barkhorn simultaneously receiving the Iron Cross First Class for her role as leader of the Karlsländ contingent of OTU-56. Due to be sent back to Liberion soon, Roberta Johnson had been told to expect a Silver Star, along with her Purple Heart, soon after she arrived.

For herself, Donna knew there would be no such reward or recognition. Despite the 'situationally convenient' order activating OTU-56 as a regular squadron, Leigh-Mallory doing so was more about saving his reputation and career than hers. Beyond choosing not to push for a court-martial for the violations of military order she had committed, the Air-Officer Commanding obviously had no intention of letting any suggestion her actions on September 15th be acknowledged ever pass out of 12 Group's Headquarters. Fighter Command in London might have intervened, but it seemed as if they also disapproved of her actions.

Just that morning, orders had come down from Fighter Command dissolving OTU-56.

With just a few terse lines, the squadron had been disbanded completely. With nothing other than an order to report to Fighter Command Headquarters in London for further assignment, Donna had been stripped of her command. In such a situation, orders sending the squadron's witches and ground crew to new assignments wouldn't even go through her; they would most likely be handed down by the commander of RAF Sutton Bridge.

After a brief glance towards where Perrine, Barkhorn, Roberta and the others were being beset by reporters, Donna looked skyward towards the sound of descending striker engines.

Coming in to land were a pair of Britannian witches wearing brand new, gleaming Spitfire Ib strikers. Feeling a bit of longing, she followed the unfamiliar pair until they disappeared behind the trees, then turned to continue trudging towards her billet. _("Fine chance I'll ever get to fly again, what with me just having one arm... more likely I'm going to be discharged.")_

Arriving at her billet after a quiet walk, Donna opened up the door and stepped inside. Having written her condolence letters to the families of OTU-56's dead while recovering in the hospital, the only thing left for her to do now was finish packing, then meet up with the driver coming up from Fighter Command to take her back to London.

Not really knowing how much time had passed, Donna was struggling with folding a uniform shirt one-handed when a soft knock on the billet door brought her back to the present. "Co... Come!"

Preceded by a Flight-Sergeant witch with brilliantly red hair, a dark-haired witch with the rank of Leftenant stepped through the door. "Captain Bader?"

Desperately feeling as if she was missing something, Donna drew herself up. "Can I help you, Leftenant?"

Seeking encouragement from her companion, the dark-haired witch first glanced in that direction, then took another step forward. "Captain Bader. I can't make a firm promise this instant, but I would like to know if you would be interested in a squadron command position near London. Flight time might be limited due to other responsibilities the position will have, but within limits which may only prove temporary, you will get to fly, and you will have a command."

Incredulous, Donna wanted to shout at the young witch, telling the girl she was crazy. However, even the chance to continue flying made her hesitate to do so. "How... how can a mere Leftenant make an offer like that?"

Suddenly showing a bit of sadness, the dark-haired witch let her shoulders fall slightly. "Actually, I can't make such a promise, but someone I know has the power to do so. They saw how you fought to remain in the RAF after Ostmark, and they feel your strength and example can now be an inspiration to others."

With the twitch of a shoulder Donna flicked the empty sleeve of her uniform blouse and a mildly angry gaze towards the visiting witch. "I've only one arm! In case you didn't know!"

Suddenly angry herself, the dark-haired witch drew herself up and marched forward until she was in Donna's face. "Think you the only one wounded on September 15th? Royal Berkshire Hospital in Reading is filled with pilots and witches of many nationalities who gave parts of themselves in Britannia's defense! Many have spoken of a belief that they still have something they can contribute in the war against the Neuroi, and the person of which I speak wishes to help them do so. If you no longer have the courage to continue you've shown before, then all you have to do is say it!"

For such a young witch, the brown-haired Leftenant standing before her had an amazing presence. Suddenly feeling ashamed, Donna sighed. "Very well then, if the person of whom you speak feels so strongly about the matter, then if given the chance; since you said there is no certainty at the moment, I will do everything I can to meet their expectations."

Seemingly satisfied, the young Leftenant nodded and smiled, then moved back to stand by her companion. "Report to London as you've been ordered to. Knowing you wish to help gives m... the person... I'm speaking of reason to believe in what she wants to do."

Wondering just who this odd Leftenant who spoke so commandingly to a Captain was, Donna reached out as the two witches turned to leave. "Leftenant! Might I know your name, should I need to inquire after you once I get to London?"

After a glance at her companion, who shook her head, the Leftenant argued quietly for a bit, then turned back towards Donna. "Leftenant Lilibet, Captain. My aide is Flight Sergeant Maggy. Forgive us, but it's for the best to leave it at that."

Without another word, the two witches were gone.

Standing unmoving for several minutes, Donna tried without success to shake the feeling she should have recognized the dark-haired Leftenant. Eventually giving up, she returned to her packing. Shortly after doing so, she realized it wasn't the drudge it had been moments before.

(-)

With a firm tug, Donna finished tightening the last strap securing the bag containing her personal belongings. Carrying it over to the door of the billet, she set it down, then glanced outside and saw several of her former squadron members approaching. Feeling better now than even just an hour earlier, she went outside to meet them.

Looks of concern on their faces, Perrine Clostermann, Gertrude Barkhorn and Roberta Johnson came to a halt before Donna, saluting as they did so.

Donna quickly returned the salute. "What can I do for you Ladies?"

After a quick look at her two companions, Barkhorn took a step forward. "Everyone in OTU-56 has received their new assignments. No matter what may have happened, we still consider you our commanding officer, so we've come to let you know what's going on."

Feeling choked up by the loyalty she was being shown, Donna looked away. "Tha... thank you..."

Knowing Donna felt responsibility for the casualties OTU-56 had suffered, but feeling a kind of shame she considered to be worse, Barkhorn clenched her fists. "Captain; unlike my own hesitation during the battle of Karlsländ, you decisively took action. Despite your wounds, you recognized what needed to be done and acted on it immediately. Doing so in all likelihood prevented the fall of Britannia. Now, there is still a chance Karlsländ will be free sometime soon, instead of in twenty-five years, or fifty, or NEVER! For that, you have no cause to feel shame."

Crossing her arms, Perrine nodded in agreement. "I cannot find any fault in what you've done, Captain Bader. Any serious attempt to free Gallia will have to come from Britannia. If Britannia had fallen; then there would be no telling when my country would be free."

Still pink from her burns, but recovering thanks to the efforts of a healing witch, Roberta held out her arms in a placating manner. "All I can add are the words of President Roosevelt; that 'The Defense of Liberion is best carried out in Britannia.' You might not feel the same way Donna, but it seems to me that even if OTU-56 had been wiped-out to the last witch, as long as we stopped that Hive-core from establishing itself, the price would have been cheap. If you're really feeling guilty about what happened, then I think you need to be focusing less on what was lost, and more on what was preserved."

Having run a relaxed unit, Donna wasn't surprised by how easy the three witches found it to speak to her. Being dressed down though, even if only mildly, by a Leftenant she'd never met before then three of her subordinates... that was a bit unusual to say the least. "Well, I met someone today who had me feeling better about things before the three of you came by, but I still thank you for your concern. In any case; whatever happens to me, I'm glad all of you seem to have escaped any punishment."

Growling as deeply as her Wirehaired Pointer familiar might, Barkhorn clenched her fists again, and looked as if she wanted to tear into something. "Captain Bader, I still can't say I like what seems to be happening to you... It feels like all of us are leaving you behind..."

Deciding it might be for the best not to speak about an assignment that wasn't yet a reality; Donna still stepped forward and clapped Barkhorn on the shoulder. "There's no question about my insubordination. Despite Leigh-Mallory's 'convenient' activation of OTU-56 and the justification it provided to excuse Colonel Crittendon and Leftenant Howard from any blame for the loss of the weapons they gave us, I'm lucky not to be up for a court-martial!"

When Barkhorn relaxed and gave a nod, Donna stepped back and stretched. "Thanks again everyone. It's hard to make myself believe there isn't something different I could have done to prevent our losses, but I am feeling more at peace about it..."

Seeing the look on Donna's face, the only thing Barkhorn could do was drop the anger she was holding. After giving a resigned sigh and shaking her head, she puts hands to waist and puffed up with self-importance. "Well, since we originally came here to tell you where we're going; A few of the others and I are going back to JG 52. The wing commander specifically requested my assignment there to help her deal with a pair of new witches who seem a bit troublesome. Heidemarie is going back to JG 26 at Gruppenkommandeur Galland's insistence, but it seems as if she will receive an assignment to a night-witch squadron before too much longer. Major Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke, my old squadron commander, is over at JG 3 now and has laid claim to everyone else. I've heard rumors though that a lot of other units want to have a witch from OTU-56 sent to them to help with training."

Not wanting to be shown up, Perrine drew herself up in a proper attitude of Gallic pride as Donna turned to face her. "Amelie and I are going to the Forces Aériennes Galliaises Libres 602nd Flying Corps. Saint-Exupéry is going to a reconnaissance unit in Gallian Numidia, and the rest to other Free Gallian witch units in North Africa."

Impressed, Donna nodded her approval to Perrine before turning to face Roberta Johnson.

Scratching a bit of dry skin on her face, Roberta wondered if she could even talk about what she was going back to Liberion to do. "Since the Joint Fighter Wing concept is being put on hold for now, General Doolittle is being sent back to Liberion, and I'm going with him. I think we'll be working on a joint project with the Navy. If you wind up getting discharged, come to Liberion and look me up. I might be able to help you out."

Before Donna could say anything in answer to Roberta's offer, a car came around the corner and pulled to a stop in front of the billet. As all four witches watched, a young RAF officer climbed out and walked over to stand a polite distance away.

"Excuse me. I've been sent from Fighter Command to pick up Captain Bader? The base orderly said she was quartered in this billet."

Suddenly realizing one of the good-looking young officer's sleeves was empty and pinned up against the side of his uniform blouse; Donna hesitated for a moment before stepping forward. _("Good-looking? Why am I thinking about that?")_ "Excuse me. I am Captain Bader, and you are?"

Straightening up, the man saluted. "Leftenant John Murray Ma'am, assigned temporarily to Fighter Command Headquarters."

With their parting of ways now inevitable, Donna returned the salute before facing her former subordinates once again. "Well then; if everyone doesn't mind helping me out?"

Barkhorn, Perrine and Roberta stood-to, and Donna's luggage and military kit were quickly loaded in the car. As Leftenant Murray climbed back behind the wheel and their commanding officer faced them once more, all three drew themselves fully erect, and saluted sharply.

Trying to restrain her emotions, Donna looked the three young women over for a moment, then matched their salute. "I couldn't be more proud of you and the rest of the girls than I am at right now. God speed, and smooth flying."

Three arms came down as one before Barkhorn, Perrine and Roberta entered parade rest. "Thank you! Captain Bader!"

Donna's arm dropped, and without another word, she entered the car and was gone.

(-)

Having finished one of the verbose, typically Gallian tirades he was infamous for when dealing with those he deigned to call 'Allies,' General Charles de Gaulle slipped into a haughty, at-attention posture as he looked down his long nose at the shorter Britannian Prime Minister, Winston Churchill.

Standing alone with de Gaulle in the billet of Sutton Bridge's commanding officer, Churchill realized he might not be able to immediately change the intractable de Gaulle's mind about the matter they were discussing. Obliged however by his belief in the Strike Witches concept to try, Churchill turned and stubbed out his cigar in an ashtray. The move seemed slow and deliberate, designed to give him time to gather his thoughts, but that was not its only purpose...

...it also gave him a chance to get his anger over the almost intolerably insufferable Gallian's attitude in the face of the threat facing humanity under control.

Finally, after taking a deep breath, Churchill looked up at de Gaulle. "You do understand, General de Gaulle, that the Karlsländ, Liberion, Fuso and other allied contingents also suffered grievously in the recent epic battle? So much so that they too have been forced to re-evaluate the allocation of their Strike Witches? Britannia herself will need to recall many of its witches from North Africa just to ensure our home island has adequate protection. As a more specific example; the Karlsländ squad within OTU-56 actually suffered more significantly than the Gallian! For that matter, the Liberion witch lived, but suffered badly from burns, and the commanding officer, Captain Donna Bader, lost a THIRD limb in service to her country! Despite such, neither Karlsländ, Liberion or Britannia itself has decided to withdrawal completely from the Joint Fighter Wing-Strike Witches program. All have promised to renew it at the earliest possible opportunity."

Seeing de Gaulle twitch slightly, Churchill knew he'd managed to secure a small advantage. Not wanting to waste the possibly fleeting opportunity, he pounced on it. "General de Gaulle. I understand Gallia's military needs require the return of its witches from OTU-56. However, I do wish you would reconsider withdrawing completely from the program that unit was created to test. Despite what happened; I feel the results prove the idea has merit, and should be given further consideration in the future. After Gallia's current military needs have been met, of course."

Visibly displeased at being so openly confronted with his own intransigence, even in so polite a manner, de Gaulle gave an annoyed grunt, then relaxed slightly. "Very well then, Mister Churchill. When Gallia's immediate military needs have been met, I will re-evaluate its participation in the Joint Fighter Wing program."

Without even offering a handshake, de Gaulle gave a clipped bow, then turned and departed.

Satisfied, Churchill lit another cigar before signaling his secretary to return from the outer office where she'd gone to wait after General de Gaulle's arrival.

As a whole, not just in OTU-56, the Strike Witches had preformed tremendously on September 15th. However his precious ladies, while not taking losses as bad by percentage as the regular military, had still suffered grievously. Despite their achievements; the sudden absence of so many friends in both services had caused a serious crisis of morale, and all of them needed acknowledgement and reassurance that such sacrifice had not been in vain.

Before de Gaulle's arrival, he had been working on a speech to help do just that, amongst other things. As soon as May Shearburn was ready, he took the cigar from his mouth.

_"We believe that we shall be able to continue the struggle against the Neuroi indefinitely, for as long as our otherworldly enemy pleases, and the longer it continues the more rapid will be our approach, first towards that parity, and then into that military superiority, upon which in a large measure the decision of the war depends._

_The gratitude of everyone in our Island Nation, in the Britannian Empire, and indeed throughout the world, goes out to the British airmen and Strike Witches of all nationalities who, undaunted by odds, unwearied in the face of constant challenge and mortal danger, turned back the tide of a maximum enemy effort, on September 15th, by their prowess and by their devotion._

_Never in the field of all conflict upon this Earth was so much owed by so many to so few."_

Taking a puff on his cigar, Churchill waited the instant it took May Shearburn to catch up, then resumed his pacing and his dictation.

_"All hearts go out to the fighter pilots and Strike Witches, whose brilliant actions we have seen with our own eyes day after day..."_

(-)

As her car pulled away from Sutton Bridge, Donna glanced over at Leftenant Murray. Watching him let go of the wheel and reach across his lap to shift gears was a bit disconcerting, but wondering why he seemed so familiar was bothering her even more. "Leftenant Murray; if you don't mind my asking?"

Remaining quiet, Leftenant Murray popped the stick into neutral, then prepared to stop at an intersection. Once he was sure it was safe to cross, he put the car back into gear and began to accelerate. "Calais. Operation Dynamo. I rammed a Neuroi that was going after one of the refugee ships. Nailed the blighter good, too! My chute streamed when I bailed out. My right arm tangled in the risers, and since my left arm had been crushed, I couldn't reach the reserve."

His expression becoming wistful, Murray gave a sigh as he stared off into a distance that was more than just further down the road. "An angel more beautiful than any I could have ever imagined came out of nowhere and saved me... She put me down on the transport, then took off again. It's not as if you get to meet a Strike Witch every day, so when the order calling you to Fighter Command crossed my desk, I saw a chance to be able to thank that angel by proxy, and immediately volunteered to come pick you up."

Hearing Leftenant Murray's words, Donna could only stare at him in shock. Having not yet been assigned to OTU-56 at the time of Operation Dynamo, she had commandeered a spare striker and gone out as an independent witch from an 11 Group airfield. Saving a regular RAF pilot had just been one more event in the many sleepless days spent covering the evacuation of northern Gallia. That she would ever meet that young man again had been the furthest thing from her mind. That he might wish to offer his thanks and compliments doubly so. Blushing furiously, she turned away. "I... was just doing what I could to help at the time..."

Stunned by what he'd just heard, Leftenant Murray stared at Donna Bader for a moment, then just smiled and remained silent as the car continued making its way towards London. When enough time seemed to have passed, he glanced at his companion. "Captain Bader? Would you like to help me out again by shifting gears?"

Looking up at John Murray, Donna saw something in his look of admiration that instantly put her at ease. "Sure. I'm not used to shifting from this side though!"

At the next intersection Donna had a bit of trouble, producing two amused laughs as she ground the gears. By the time the car reached London though, she and Leftenant Murray were working perfectly in synch.

(-)

(A farm outside Watnall, Nottinghamshire county, Britannia.)

Following behind Niels Bohr, Leigh-Mallory walked into a building that looked like a barn on the outside, then stepped through another door designed to keep any light from leaking out of the special facility concealed within.

In the back of the room, frost covered the outside of a large portable freezer.

Studiously ignored by several Fuso scientists who were busy with their own tasks, Bohr and Leigh-Mallory crossed the room and stopped before the freezer.

Inserting a key into a heavy padlock securing the freezer, Bohr removed the lock, raised the hasp, then opened the freezer's lid.

Nestled inside were two equally frost-covered glass cylinders. Visible behind the frost were what seemed to be a pair of Neuroi core-crystals.

"As you can see Sir, we managed to recover two fragments of the Neuroi Hive-core."

Fascinated by the potential contained within the two dull-looking crystals, Leigh-Mallory finally had to force himself to turn away. "Do you have any idea why the fragments became smaller, complete crystals?"

Answering first with a shoulder shrug, Bohr then shook his head. "When we initially secured them in the chemical coolant containers, the two fragments stopped disintegrating and began growing. They didn't stop doing so until we secure them in this freezer, and by then they had reached the state you now see. Obviously we're going to need some new form of containment before serious work can begin, but I'm confident we will find one."

Nodding, Leigh-Mallory turned from Niels Bohr and towards a chalkboard containing a rough drawing of some kind of propellerless aircraft, as well as one of some kind of flywheel generator. "You mentioned two possibilities for the crystal's use. Are these it?"

Bohr smiled as Leigh-Mallory examined the crude drawings. "That is correct. The first is a possible remote controlled, small fighter design; and the second is intended to be used on something larger, perhaps a ship of some kind, which would also be controlled remotely."

Liking the simple, sinister lines of the small unit, Leigh-Mallory stepped forward and picked up a piece of chalk. With a rapid pace, he wrote out a single word, then double underlined it for emphasis. As soon as he finished, he put the chalk back, then turned to face Bohr, slipping into a parade-rest posture as he did so. "'Warlock.' An appropriate name for something which shall be used to replace the witches, don't you think?"

Not having bothered to even consider a name for the small flyer, Bohr shrugged. "Very well then. 'Warlock' it is."

(-)

_(Afterword.)_

_Hauptmann Ernsta Mayer would eventually return to Britannia from Nue Karlsländ. After the liberation of Gallia, she would be shot down and killed by the Neuroi during the Second Battle of Karlsländ._

_Air Officer Commanding Trafford Leigh-Mallory would eventually replace Hugh Dowding as Chief of Fighter Command. He would have some supporters, but just as many detractors. Eventually he would be assigned to command of Britannian Air Forces in South-east Asia, but would die en-route when his transport crashed._

_Air Commodore Trevor Malloney would replace Leigh-Mallory as head of Fighter Command. Preceding the liberation of Gallia, he would run afoul of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing during the Warlock incident in the fall of 1944._

_No ties connecting Leigh-Mallory or Trevor Malloney to any member of the Britannian government were ever established. Events later in the war suggested possible ties with the Fuso military. However; much of the material related to the Warlock was lost in an unexplained fire, so no firm connection in that respect was ever established either._

_Niels Bohr would eventually move to Liberion. There he would become involved in the effort lead by J. Robert Oppenheimer to develop a powerful anti-Neuroi bomb._

_Air Vice Marshal Hugh Dowding would be forced out of his position as head of Fighter Command by Trafford Leigh-Mallory's political maneuvering. He would always remain a strong advocate of Air-Infantry/Strike Witches._

_Air Officer Commanding Keith Park would eventually become the head of Fighter Command after Malloney was forced to retire._

_Gertrude Barkhorn, while serving in JG 52, and later on under Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke in JG 3, would go on to become a top Karlsländ ace. She would help train two equally talented pilots; Erica Hartmann, and Hanna-Justina Marseille. Along with Wilcke and Hartmann, she would eventually form the core of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing when the Strike Witches program was finally reactivated, officially, in 1943._

_Heidemarie Schnaufer would score over 100 kills against Neuroi as a Night Witch. She would become one of the three top Night Witches, along with Sanya Litvyak of Orussia, and Heinrike Prinzessin zu Sayn-Wittgenstein of Karlsländ. Though there is no firm evidence; analysis of after-action reports suggests the Neuroi tried to assassinate Heidemarie as many as fifteen times due to her effectiveness against their nighttime efforts. (In comparison, the Neuroi only tried to assassinate Sanya Litvyak once.) While Neuroi did occasionally escape Heidemarie, she never allowed any of the suspected 'assassin' Neuroi to escape. In acknowledgement of all her efforts; the Kaiser of Karlsländ would eventually award her the Knight's Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords, and Diamonds._

_Several other Karlsländ witches would go on to successful careers as Strike Witches. One, Kirsa Hahn, would become a part of the famous 'Sonderkommando Elba.' A witch unit who's members specialized in destroying Neuroi through the use of extremely strong shielding and ramming attacks._

_Perrine Clostermann and Amelie Planchard would enjoy considerable success while serving with the Forces Aériennes Galliaises Libres 602nd Flying Corps. Along with Mio Sakamoto, the Fuso witch who recruited her after Operation Dynamo, Perrine Clostermann would eventually join the 501st Joint Fighter Wing. As members of the famous 501st 'Strike Witches,' the list of achievements for both would grow considerably._

_While many of the other Gallian's in OTU-56 would also have successful careers, the fate of Antoinette de Saint-Exupéry was most notable for the mystery which surrounded it._

_While on a reconnaissance mission to Neuroi occupied Gallia in July 1944, Saint Exupéry and her F-5b Lightning Recon Striker vanished without a trace. Fifty-four years later, the remains of a striker were found in the Mediterranean Sea outside the city of Marseille. Though a bracelet belonging to Saint Exupéry and parts of a Gallian uniform were found, no positive identification of a body was ever made. Damage to the striker indicated it was most likely shot down by the Neuroi._

_Roberta S. Johnson briefly assisted General Doolittle with experiments related to deploying ultra-heavy B-25 Mitchell Strikers from aircraft carriers. She then transferred to a unit of ground-attack witches flying P-47 Thunderbolt strikers. After the war she would join the Karlsländ witch Hanna U. Rudel as a design advisor for the famous A-10 Thunderbolt II ground attack striker. Roberta would say 'Give it heavy shields!' while Rudel would say 'Give it a big gun!' The A-10 would be a ground attack striker of unmatched effectiveness and durability during the Gulf Neuroi War in 1991._

_Captain Donna Bader never received official recognition for her role in leading OTU-56 on September 15th, 1940._

_However, at the instigation of Queen Designate Elizabeth Mary Windsor, herself a reserve Strike Witch in the RAF, as well as the Britannian Regent Prince Phillip Mountbatten, Donna Bader was given the responsibility of organizing and training 11th (Joint) Fighter Wing, 'Her Majesty's Own Witches,' for the specific defense of London and its environs. Most of the witches assigned to the unit were non-Britannian, and many had disabilities similar to her own. Despite that; the unofficially named 'Wounded Witches,' established an excellent record against the Neuroi. Along with the Suomus Volunteers, (eventually redesignated as the 507th Joint Fighter Wing,) the 11th would be one of two unofficial 'Joint Fighter Wings' until the formation of the 501st 'Strike Witches' Joint Fighter Wing in late 1943._

_Donna Bader and John Murray would marry after the end of the war. Both would help establish the Britannian Limbless (Ex-)Service member's Association, an organization which worked to help with the needs of wounded veterans of all nations who fought against the Neuroi._

oware.

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**Author's Notes:**

**That's it! I hope everyone enjoyed my take on the origin of the Warlock as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**Saint Michael's Cathedral: Church in Coventry England destroyed (in regular history,) by the German Luftwaffe on November 14th, 1940.**

**Gertrude Barkhorn's nick-name: 'Grünschnabel,' 'The Greenhorn.'**

**La Marseillaise: The Gallian/French National Anthem.**

**Croix de guerre: (With silver gilt palm leaf.) Gallian/French Cross. Award for meritorious action worthy of mention in dispatches at the highest level within Free Gallian/French Forces.**

**The basic Karlsländ (German) Iron Cross award for meritorious action comes in two levels: the Iron Cross 2nd Class and the Iron Cross 1st Class.**

**As the 2nd Class must be possessed to be awarded the 1st Class, Barkhorn would receive both at the same time.**

**Knight's Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords, and Diamonds: The Knight's Cross is a higher level of award for meritorious action than the Iron Cross. The Oak Leaves, Swords, and Diamonds indicate levels beyond the basic Knight's Cross.**

**Of all those who received the award in World War II, only one, Ground Attack Stuka pilot Hans-Ulrich Rudel, would receive the Knight's Cross with Gold Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds. (In Strike Witches, the award would be given to Hanna-Ulrich Rudel, who fought with the Suomus Volunteers while leading a unit of witches using Stuka strikers.)**

**The real world Egon (Ernsta) Mayer was shot down and killed in March of 1944.**

**Sonderkommando Elba: A unit in the Luftwaffe created to use Me-109 fighter aircraft in ramming attacks against enemy bombers. Klause Hahn, (Kirsa Hahn,) rammed and nearly destroyed an American B-17 bomber, as depicted in 'The Luftwaffe's Deadliest Mission,' an episode from season two of the History Channel series 'Dogfights.'**

**Gallian Numidia: (Old name for Algeria. French Algeria/French North Africa.) Name I choose to represent Algeria.**

**The fate of the real-world Antoine (Antoinette) de Saint-Exupéry is essentially as given.**

**Winston Churchill originally gave his speech about 'The Few' before the House of Commons on August 20th, 1940. (In normal World War II history.)**

**Donna Bader and John Murray have both lost their left arms. Since they are riding in a right-side-drive car, Murray needs to reach to the left, across his lap, to shift gears. Since Donna is using her right arm to shift gears, all she has to do is reach down and forward a bit to the stick-shifter, which is by her right knee.**

**11th Joint Fighter Wing: 'Her Majesty's Own Witches.'**

**Established: January 1st, 1941.**

**Commanding Officer: Wing Commander (Major) Donna Bader.**

**Official Nickname: 'Glorious Witches.'**

**Un-official Nickname: 'The Wounded Witches.'**

**Motto: 'Etiam in Pugna.' 'Still in the Fight.'**

**There is no 'official' information beyond a brief mention of a name on the Japanese Strike Witches Wiki, (Dolores Bader,) for the Strike Witches equivalent of Douglas Bader. As I mentioned earlier, I chose 'Donna Bader' because I picked that for a name before I became aware of the English Strike Witches Wiki.**

**Giving credit where credit is due though, the idea for the 11th Joint Fighter Wing DID come from the English Strike Witches Wiki. However it seems the information concerning it is only 'fan-made.' For that reason I made several minor modifications to that information to suit my own purposes. That the witches of the 11th are from many different countries around the world though, remains unchanged. **

**Leftenant John Murray: Reverse-gender Strike Witches version of Douglas Bader's second wife, Joan Murray. Joan was a member of the British Limbless (Ex-)Serviceman's Association when she and Douglas Bader first met.**

**Gulf Neuroi War: (1991.) Fan-established addition to the Strike Witches timeline.**


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